


My Parental Guardians Are Just Friends

by I_JustWokeUp



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dr. Stiles, Flashbacks, Future Fic, Guardianship, M/M, McCall orphans, Raising kids, Sheriff Derek, permanent hiatus, season 2 canon, sterek, too much fluff for me to deal with finishing, werewolf kid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 03:26:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 49,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/832160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_JustWokeUp/pseuds/I_JustWokeUp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott McCall is lucky to have Allison as his wife and two best friends that would do anything for him, including live together and raise their kids. Dr. Stilinski and Sheriff Hale haven't quite found a one-word label that defines this unique relationship. Plus, they get easily distracted by the kids and each other.</p><p>Includes flashbacks of the past fifteen years.<br/>**on permanent hiatus**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. February: Dr. Stilinski Saves A Life

### Prologue: Before Dr. Stilinski and Sheriff Hale

 

Shit.” Stiles breathes, sitting down on Scott’s bed in shock as Scott sighs, looking at his best friend with dread.

“Yeah.”

“This is even worse than the werewolf thing.” Stiles said, staring at him in disbelief, “You’re going to be a _dad_.”

Scott sighed, “I know. Don’t…” He scowled, “Allison wants to keep him or her. Her dad tried to…” Scott scowled, “I couldn’t do it either so we’re going to be teenage parents.”

“Shit, you think it’ll be furry and claw-y like you?” Stiles asked, eyes wide

Scott flopped back on his bed, “That’s why her dad wanted to get rid of it. He doesn’t think Allison can survive a werebaby.”

“Were-fetus, really.” Stiles appended, but Scott carried on

“Anyway, apparently no humans have ever tried to carry a werewolf baby. They’ve always been turned, I guess.” Scott scowled, rubbing his eyebrows, “I talked to Derek about it and he thinks it’ll be okay for now, but he’s going to keep a close tab on Allison, which is good.”

Stiles had nothing to say, his mind running too fast for his mouth to provide its standard commentary.

Scott stared at Stiles, “I’m scared, man.”

“Oh hell, me too.” Stiles looked at him in consternation, “We’re supposed to be celebrating that we just _graduated_ man and you had to upstage that by announcing that that you and Alison are having a freaking prom baby! What are you even doing about college? Where’s she going to live? Are you getting married? What’s going on with your life? What about _my_ li-”

Scott shook him lightly, “Relax man. Allison’s deferring and planning to apply somewhere closer after the baby’s born. I’m going to ask your dad about getting a job with the police station. I think I’d be good at it anyway.” He shrugged

Stiles stared at him, “But Arizona and the lacrosse scholarship! You were going to be a vet, man.”

Scott looked at him levelly, as if he was trying to believe his own statements, “All I need to have is Allison. And now we’re going to be a family.” He smiled broader, “Maybe it’s fate that the condom broke.”

“Fate or superpowered werewolf sperm, we’ll never know.” Stiles half-muttered, shaking his head in disbelief, “Ugh, it’s not fair that you guys get to stay here and I have to go and explore the foreign college dynamic by myself.”

Scott laughed good-naturally, his eyes squinting with amusement at Stiles’ self involved statement, “We’re giving up a lot, Stiles. Her dad hates me, my mom hasn’t talked to me in a long time, really talked, and Allison’s just freaked out all the time. The only one who is really, actually happy is Derek because a baby means a pack addition.”

“That guy and his power trips.” Stiles rolled his eyes

Scott clapped him on the shoulder: “You have to tell me everything about UCLA. Everything man. And go abroad. Kiss lots of girls, guys, whatever. Wear a toga and all that shit.”

Stiles laughed, shoving him away, “I’ll make sure to call when you’re stressed out at three in the morning because Allison kicked you out of bed and the baby won’t stop shrieking.”

Scott smiled sadly, “Thanks man.” He hugged Stiles tightly, “I’m going to miss you. Like a lot." 

“Me too.” Stiles murmured. Most of his conversations with Scott ended like this since he broke the news that he decided to move eight hours away for college. After all, neither of them had spent more than five days without seeing each other since they were first graders.

As Allison’s began to show, Stiles hugged his best friend one last time before climbing into his jeep for the shiny lights of Hollywood and the ocean breeze that came with the constantly sunny campus of University of California, Los Angeles. 

### Chapter One: Dr. Stilinski Saves a Life

_Fifteen Years Later_

“Dr. Stilinski! Kid with GSWs in the ER. Leg an-”

“On it!” Stiles was already running toward the ER as he finished swallowing his banana, “Briggs, hurry up!”

She hurried after him, cheeks pink. Stiles didn’t pay much attention as he caught up with the patient being wheeled into the OR, snapping on a pair of gloves, “Oh princess, let’s get you all fixed up.” He murmured, quickly assessing her injuries.

“Mall shooting, sir. Abdomen’s rigid, systolic 75, last pulse 137.” Monroe half-boomed at him. He was a big man, bit of a hulk, often reminding Stiles of Boyd on steroids. The little girl had a makeshift paper crown on her head and it made Stiles’ heart squeeze. 

Stiles looked at Monroe, “What’s her name?”

“Amelia Chase. Mall shooting.” Stiles’ stomach turned, imagining this sweet little girl innocently playing princess as she held her mom’s hand.

“Well we’re going to fix her up just like new.” Stiles assured him, eyes sharp. This was not one child he’d lose. Of course he believed that every time. His last boyfriend said it was part of what made him a highly prized pediatric surgeon.

“Page Grantly, we’re going to need him for that leg.” Stiles yelled at a nurse as they hit the operating room, “Her artery’s blown and I’m pretty sure that femur is shattered.”

He pulled up to the sink, washing his hands for five minutes and he knew it was five minutes because he always watched the clock as he did it, his eyes following every motion of the arms. It was oddly soothing, an almost hypnotic dance that put him in a good place for surgery.

And he was a damn good surgeon.

“Parents are here?” Briggs announced, her eyes wide. Stiles was annoyed by how she always had a perpetually confused look on her face. Every statement almost always turned into a question.

“Uh, send Monroe to do an update. It’s going to be a long surgery. We’re doing a shunt, saving her leg, the whole nine yards.” Stiles told her, eyes still on the clock. Nothing could distract him from checking his nails, lathering all way to his elbows, rubbing at every speck and germ. He always knew exactly where his hands should be at each stage of the process.

Hands up, he walked into the bright OR, a determined spark in his brown eyes as he grinned inside his mask. He was going to save a life today.

Later, he walked out, an exhausted warrior. He wore his familiar air of a tired but triumphant as he walked toward the anxious family awaiting a report on Amelia.

The mom smelled like gingerbread cookies, even through all the tears and worry. She hugged him tightly and Stiles was grateful for that. Mom hugs were the best sort. Especially after a 14 hour surgery.

He glanced at his watch, realizing that he was almost off shift. One last set of rounds and then he’d head home for sleep. Maybe call his dad.

“Dr. Stilinski,” One of the nurses came up, “Phone call for you. A Dr. Addison from Beacon Hills Hospital.”

Stiles looked at her in surprise as another handed him the landline and he took it, “Hey Dr. Addison, it’s been a while.” Since college, in fact. He interned with the elderly doctor the summer of his sophomore and junior year. 

“Stiles, uh, Dr. Stilinski. I sure wish I was making this call under better circumstances-”

“Stiles, you’re the man!” One of the other attendings clapped him on the shoulder, letting out a whoop as Stiles grinned, still not quite down from his high. He frowned, realizing that he hadn’t been listening to the phone.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Addison, I’m just about to go off call after a double shift. Do you mind repeating what you were saying?”

“Scott McCall has you down as a second emergency contact and I thought I’d take the call myself.” He explained awkwardly, “Scott, Allison and Aurora were in a nasty car crash, son. Their little girl is miraculously fine except for some superficial scratches. We lost Allison to major abdominal bleeding and Scott was DOA. I’m very sorry for your loss. I know you were close to them.” Dr. Addison explained, sounding a bit nervous about breaking this news.

Stiles’ head jerked up, “What? I- _Scott McCall_? Scott and Allison McCall are dead?”

People were starting to look at him, bewildered and a bit frightened at his expression. Stiles turned away from the crowd, shaking his head furiously. No, this was not happening. Not again. His throat swelled and he felt the warning signs of a panic attack. Why didn’t he save them?

“You should head our way. A lot of people need you right now son,” The doctor explained kindly, unaware of Stiles’ personal turmoil. 

Indeed, Stiles had already dropped the phone, on his way out toward his car, hell bent on continuing to breathe through his nose until the wedge in his throat subsided. His heart was pounding as he dialed his father’s number. Damn it. He was the one living in a big scary urban jungle. He was the one who was supposed to be in danger of things like car accidents. Not the Perfect Parents raising the perfect family. 

Damn it.

Stiles banged his fist against the wheel as his father informed him that he had already bought Stiles a ticket on the first flight out of Washington to California. In no time, Stiles Stilinski would be back in Beacon Hills.

 

*

 

Stiles pulled on his sunglasses, more so to hide the fact that they were rimmed with red and purple blemishes were evident. He couldn’t seem to sleep and the tears were so damn spontaneous.  The plane finally landed and Stiles couldn’t pull the seatbelt buckle off fast enough. He was practically a ghost as he zipped through the rows of passengers sluggishly gathering their bearings.

There was Dad with the box of doughnuts Stiles knew he’d bring. Not even feeling a little bit guilty, Stiles grabbed the box and threw it into the nearest trashcan. He thrust a baggie of granola and dried seaweed at his father. 

“Eat this instead.” Stiles half sniffed, mind racing as he shifted his overnight bag, the only thing he had brought, “We gotta go…somewhere.”

“We are.” John Stilinski threw away the baggie, as he followed his son’s lead, “I’m taking you to Chris Argent’s. Archer and Scarlett spent the night there while Rory was under observation at the hospital. Melissa’s probably having her discharged her right now.” 

“We’re going to Chris’s.” Stiles repeated slowly, realizing that was where he needed to be, with Scott’s kids. These poor kids that Scott and Allison loved more than life itself.

He numbly got in the car, half berating himself for not even thinking of the kids until right now, this very moment and now his mind was racing with all the memories he had. Reports of baby firsts. The glittery card caked with paint he received for graduation. The tea parties he and Scott had manfully participated in while Allison cackled with glee. The panicky text messages he received every single time one of the kids exhibited some sort of weird medical symptom that turned out to be nothing.

Stiles’ heart squeezed with grief as he tore the sunglasses off to touch the corners of his eyes, try to stop the potential leak, “I should’ve come home more often.”

“Stiles,” John sighed, looking every inch of his plus sixty years, “He was so damn proud of you. Almost as much as me. You were a damn good friend to him. The best one he had.”

Stiles let out a choked sob and his father pulled over, grabbing his son’s head and patting it as Stiles, a grown man of nearly 34 years sobbed hysterically into his father’s shirt.

He had only done it once before, when Mom died.

Stiles pulled away, dragging in deep gulps of air. The former sheriff smiled sadly, patting Stiles lightly on the shoulder.

“Son, when your mom died. I had to be there for you.”

Stiles nodded, shoving his sunglasses back into place, “Thanks Dad.”

He nodded, squeezing Stiles’ shoulder, “If you feel yourself losing it-" 

“Dad-” Stiles nearly cut him off but he made the mistake of looking into his father’s face, etched with lines of worry and regret,

“Then just cry anyway. Get it out and over time you have less of an urge to cry and then you just feel sad all the damn time.”

“God Dad.” Stiles sighed, wiping at the stray tears as his father continued driving

“I love you son but I’m still sad all the damn time.” John sighed, looking at him, “Maybe if I had a son that didn’t have an entire town determined to stuff me full of lettuce.”

Stiles let out a choked laugh. He was relieved to hear that Scott kept an eye on his dad’s diet as they worked together and Allison insisted on the old man coming to dinners when he was off duty.

“I love you too, Dad.” Stiles told him somberly

They made it to the Argents, seeing Melissa’s car, along with Derek’s in the driveway. Stiles half-tensed. His relationship with Derek was rocky on a good day, after all.

 

_Stiles grinned as he pulled Archer’s birthday present out of the jeep. Feeling the nip in the air, he grabbed his college zip-up. As shrugged it on, he looked up at Derek’s newly rebuilt home. Scott and Allison decided to have Archer’s birthday party here as a way of combining it with everyone’s curiosity to see the result of Derek’s rebuild._

_He stopped, seeing Derek welcoming people in from his place on the wraparound porch. The house was completely changed from the burnt out shell he recalled. It was still huge, of course, probably for that pack family that Derek was planning to have. It was certainly a gorgeous home, playing on Stiles’ fantasies of opulent West Egg and Daisy Buchanan._

_He was barefoot with worn khakis that fit him just right and a chambray shirt that had been buttoned up incorrectly. Stiles couldn’t stop staring at the bit of chest hair poking out from his collarbone._

_“Stiles.” Derek’s deep voice half rumbled, looking at him, “You’re here.”_

_“I’m here.” Stiles agreed, holding up his shiny orange and green beribboned present, “Our godson is turning three after all.”_

_Scott had named both him and Derek as godfathers. Stiles had been a foregone conclusion given his status as best friend. Derek was more of a surprise, but delighted by his inclusion. Stiles had been miffed, but respected Scott’s decision._

_“What’d you get him?” Derek demanded, his green eyes flashing, “UCLA sweats to go with the shirt?”_

_Stiles half flushed. He had a habit of giving Archer baby-sized UCLA things, but there was something so cute about a baby wearing his university’s logo on it. Scott also liked it, and Stiles knew for a fact that Allison bought a tot-sized UCLA football jersey for the Rose Bowl last January._

_“No, I thought of something cooler.” Stiles said lightly, jiggling the box, which held a Batman action figure that came with blaster, utility belt, bat-signal button and batteries. Perfect toy to teach a three-year-old the joys of superhero comics, “What about you? A mini leather jacket or some sort of remote controlled Camaro?” He berated himself for the dumb comeback, unable to get a snappy tongue around Derek these days. They’d been friends of a sort of a while but that faded as quickly as the nasty hangover Stiles woke up with the day after prom._

_Derek cocked his head to the side, looking as if he was sure he’d already won, “You’ll see.”_

_Stiles stopped his mouth from saying something else to add to this tumultuous exchange. Probably Derek would have the better gift anyway. He saw Archer all the time after all. Stiles knew for a fact that Derek took most of the pictures of Scott and Archer that Scott posted on his blog._

_“Thanks for coming, Stiles.” Derek added politely, “Party’s straight through to the backyard. Bathroom’s just off the kitchen. Don’t go upstairs and wander around.”_

_Stiles grinned widely, recognizing an opening to needle him: “I guess you don’t want me to see the leather sheets and matching bedspread you picked out for yourself, huh?”_

_Eyes glittering with amusement at how Derek tensed, Stiles walked off with a broader smile, feeling much more in party mode now that he had gotten one retort over Derek._

Stiles walked in, seeing Melissa and Chris both nursing cups of coffee as they hung out in the foyer. Melissa rushed to hug Stiles and his father, holding Stiles a bit longer as she let out a strangled sob that was quickly inhaled back in. John noticed and insisted on taking her for a quick ride for more coffee. Stiles gave his father a thankful glance.

Chris shook his head, letting out a sigh, “The kids are still asleep. Lawyer’s here with Derek and waiting for us to come in.”

Stiles nodded, wishing his father hadn’t left though he knew it was necessary for Melissa.

He half froze, seeing Derek although he expected to see Derek. All the same, it’d been _years_. And yet, Derek looked like the same half-tortured young man that Stiles met that one fateful day in September when it turned out that his best friend was a freaking werewolf.

It startled Stiles to see Derek in his father’s sheriff uniform. Derek wearing the shiny badge that symbolized the trust of a sleepy town who elected him to the office after his father decided to retire a few years ago.

“Still don’t shave, huh?” Stiles asked, giving him a weary smile. Derek stood up, shaken out of his own thoughts. It was clear he hadn’t changed, his shirt had dried blood on it and Stiles stilled as he wondered if Derek had been there, at the accident. Had Derek seen Scott? Had he held Rory, promising her what was now impossible?

“Other things have changed.” Derek half muttered as he ran a light hand over his stubble, blazing green eyes sharp on Stiles, “Good to see you, _Doctor_ Stilinski.”

Stiles was surprised by the overlay of respect in Derek’s voice, shoving his hands in his pocket as he willed himself not to act like the adolescent boy he often regressed to around this practically perfect man. 

“Dr. Stilinski,” The lawyer smiled at him, extending a hand, “I’m Duncan Dumott. Please have a seat.” He gestured to the other chair beside Derek’s and Stiles sat. Chris, Stiles noted, was behind him, arms crossed.

The lawyer let out a nervous smile, “So uh, obviously we want to know about the kids.” He coughed as he opened the leather-inlaid folder that had the crisp white details of Scott and Allison’s will, “This is a bit, well…unorthodox, but when Scott and Allison set down the terms of their will, they named Sheriff Derek Hale and Dr…” He squinted at the name on the sheet, “B-Bhuag-”

“I legally changed it to Stiles Stilinski a number of years ago.” Stiles corrected him mildly. It’d been worth it. He figured that he’d make it up to his mom by giving her name to his progeny.

“Dr. Stiles Stilinski,” The lawyer looked relieved at not having to stutter over it, “full custodial guardianship rights of Archer Christopher McCall, Aurora Melissa McCall and Scarlett Alyssa McCall.”

Stiles frowned, looking behind him to see that Chris had disappeared, “What about Chris and Melissa? Don’t they want to take care of the kids?”

Duncan hesitated and held out two envelopes, “They wrote you guys letters to explain this better than I could. Trust me when I say that this was a decision they did not make lightly.” He paused as he handed over the letters, “I’ll just, ah, find some water.”

Derek opened his efficiently, turning one nail into a sharp claw as he ran it through the envelope. Stiles watched him scan it, feeling numb. Derek swallowed and closed the letter, tucking it back into the envelope, which he then tucked into his shirt pocket.

He looked at Stiles, eyes bright, “I’m in.”

Stiles sighed, staring at his own letter, his name labeled in Scott’s familiar scrawl. The last thing he would ever read from his best friend. He felt his shoulders shaking and all of a sudden, there was Derek, hand on his shoulder, squeezing him.

“ _Stiles_ ,” Derek’s voice was gentler than memory recalled, almost making his name sound holy and venerated, “Do-do you want me to read you mine?”

Stiles nodded, for in that moment he would’ve even agreed to watch a Nicholas Sparks movie marathon. Anything, he would do anything to put off the moment of reading Scott’s last half legible scrawl to Stiles.

Derek pulled it out, smoothing the letter out as he kept one hand steady on Stiles’ shoulder as if trying to be an anchor for Stiles, reading:

_Derek,_

_If you read this, then you know that we need you to be there, especially to help Scarlett. Additionally, we need you to be there because our kids love and trust you second only to us. I have no worry that you won’t waste a second to agree and help shoulder the responsibility._

_I know you’re well aware of the moments in our early relationship where I hated you. But there are countless more moments filled with love and gratitude for your continued existence, devotion and kindness to Scott and the kids. Parenting is difficult, but I have faith that you and Stiles will make the most of it and hopefully benefit from its rewards._

_You’re probably surprised that we also asked Stiles given his long absences, but we need him too. Not just because of his medical expertise but because he’s the friend we-Scott particularly-could depend on countless times. He’s always been that guy and we want him to be there for our kids, teaching them how to be as amazing as he is._

_Above all, can you remind them every so often that we love them always and forever?_

_Love,_

_Allison_

He glanced at Stiles, “I’m guessing Scott wrote yours.”

Stiles handed Derek his envelope, “Read it.” He said harshly, looking at Derek, “I can’t.” He rubbed his hands on the arms of his chair, tensing. The wedge was back in his throat.

“Breathe.” Derek didn’t open the letter, “You don’t need to read it right now, Stiles. You know how Scott feels about you. You know that you’re a pediatrician-”

“Pediatric surgeon.” Stiles corrected

“And you know that Scott and Allison want you there because if they can’t raise their children, they want the guy that they’ve always been able to depend on doing it.”

Stiles looked at Derek with a guarded smile, “I’m that guy?”

Derek nodded, holding up his letter, “Allison says so here right here. And…I mean, you played fucking telephone for them in high school.” That was one of Scott’s favorite stories about the early days, “There isn’t a damn thing you wouldn’t do for Scott…He’s your brother in every way but blood, Stiles. He’s your pack.”

Stiles nodded, taking back the envelope, looking up at Derek with newfound conviction, “I’m in.”

Derek smiles at him: a genuine smile that knocks Stiles off balance. Mostly because he’s typically the recipient of irritated scowls or frozen neutral lines. But now, here is an honest to god smile on the lips of Derek Hale.

He’s just so tragically beautiful and Stiles feels the adolescent in him drooling.

Stiles is relieved to sit back down as the lawyer returns, relieved when Derek quietly reports that they’ve both agreed to take care of the kids.

“That’s great. I’ll set up a court hearing, which grants you two temporary custody. There will be a social worker coming by from time to time, of course, but nothing to worry about since it was clear that the parents both wanted you two to care for their children.”

Stiles rubs his eyes, “I’ll have to uh-” He swallows in disbelief, “Ugh, I’ve pretty much finished all my fellowship obligations.” He paused, rubbing his forehead as he tried to figure it out, “I’ll see if Beacon Hills Hospital has any surgical openings. I doubt they’ve got any pediatric surgeon positions though.”

Derek paused, “I’m sure you know what my hours are like.” He told Stiles softly, “So we’ll uh, coordinate our schedules to ensure that one of us is home with the kids at all time.”

“Guys, as for the rest of it,” Duncan cut in nervously, unaware of how much newly built trust he was interrupting, “The un, finances. Allison and Scott didn’t have too much besides some savings and college funds set up for all three kids.” He paused, “There’s still a sizable mortgage on the house and they also had life insurance. Of course, they left the bulk of their estate to the kids with the exception of some personal items which I’ll elaborate on after the funeral when all parties are present.”

Derek glanced at Stiles, “My house is bigger and I own it free and clear.”

Stiles nodded, brushing at the imaginary dust on the desk, “I know we should sell it, put the profit in the kid’s college fund.” He leaned back, “But…they’ve lived in that house their entire life Derek.”

“It’s a crappy broken-down house.” Derek informed him reasonably, “The foundation is crumbling, Rory and Scarlett share a walk-in closet, Archer’s ceiling has so many holes that when it rains he has a wading pool for a floor. There’s no space for both of us and my dogs.”

Stiles groaned, “Of course, I forgot about your dogs.” He scowled, “I have a cat, you know. Besides you aren’t one to judge for crappy broken-down homes since you lived in yours for a year before getting off your ass to make it a work of art.”

“We’ll move.” Derek said firmly, “It’ll be good for the kids to have more space, their own rooms and an entire forest for a front yard.” He paused to add: “Your dad will take care of the cat.”

Stiles scowled, knowing Derek was right about his house. Scott’s house really wasn’t worth it, even if Scott and Allison had been so damn proud to finally have their own home after years of shuttling back and fourth between Chris and Melissa’s with Archer, as if they were the children of divorced parents (highly ironic, given Chris and Melissa’s marked preference for each other’s company).

Instead of simply assenting like any normal person who had reached the above conclusion, Stiles found himself slouching in his chair, “Catastic goes where I go.”

Derek blinked, “You named it _Catastic_?”

“ _He_ is named Mr. Catastic, actually. I was trying to do something with a doctor, but Dr. Reed Richards doesn’t work as well with cat puns.” Stiles explained mildly, “I’ve had him for five years, he’ll be fine. He’s a limp towel most of the time.”

Derek scowled, “I hate cats.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. They’ll deal with it in time. He’s not giving up his cat.

Derek pauses, his eyes going upstairs, “Archer’s awake.”

The lawyer closed his folder, looking a smidge too happy to leave, “We’re just about done here. I have your numbers and I’ll call and let you know about that court hearing in due time. I’m sure it won’t be much more than a few week’s wait.”

He leaves and Stiles hates him for having that option. Stiles runs a hand through his mass of lanky brown hair, pondering a buzz cut which is his usual default topic of thought when he wants a distraction.

“Stop obsessing over your hair.” Derek muttered, glaring at him before glancing at the ceiling, “Archer’s coming down. We’ll explain it to him as he asks the questions." 

He wipes his hands on his jeans and Stiles realizes that he’s nervous too. It makes Stiles feels better about Derek being a general ass.

“I’ll make breakfast.” Stiles announced, happy for the excuse of cooking. He liked cooking. It cleared his head and sharpened his focus second only to surgery. That was the good thing about ADD, Stiles supposed, his hyper-focus and almost obsessive attention to details.

Derek nodded, rubbing his cheeks. “I’ll take care of the funeral arrangements. We’ll do a small family burial followed by a wake.”

Stiles didn’t look at him, knowing that his heart rate was betraying him anyway as his hands shook, “Sounds good to me.” He took another deep breath, inhaling plenty of Derek with it: A hint of spiced wine, the sharp metallic tang of blood, stale smoke and a bit of a bitter salty aftertaste, probably a mix of sweat and tears.

“Good.” Derek repeated, his eye on Stiles, “Archer likes his eggs runny and sunny-side up and he’s on a vegetarian kick right now.”

“Got it.” Stiles said numbly as they walked to the kitchen. There was Archer, helping himself to his own mug of coffee. Stiles paused, watching him. After all, he hadn’t seen Archer since Christmas, almost five months ago.

He was tall, taller than Stiles remembered. But then again, he was fourteen, going through the time honored ritual of puberty. Probably he’d shoot up another few inches. Stiles could see him being a comfortable six foot two, even if he was currently only five foot seven now.

His growing height made him lean, as if he couldn’t quite eat enough to keep up. His light brown hair was currently rumpled, probably from tossing and turning all night. His blue eyes were dim as he stared at the art-deco counter, as if obsessively counting all the little dots that the texture formed. Which he probably wasn’t counting, Stiles wasn’t entirely sure.

“Hey Archimedes.” Stiles hugged him lightly, half thrown by the fierce hug that Archer returns. Recognizing his need, Stiles grips him tighter, stroking his head much as his dad did in the car.

Archer half sniffs, pulling away after a long thirty seconds in which Derek pulled out the ingredients for eggs. Archer sighs, staring at Stiles as if not quite sure that he’s really there.

“You’re staying with us now right?”

“Me and Derek.” Stiles tells him softly, feeling a buzzing of tension underneath his words. Somehow he manages to take over for Derek on the other side of the kitchen bar and Derek sits next to Archer, perfectly content to be there, just like he’s always been there. Archer gravitates closer to his shoulder, needing the physical warmth that Derek offered.

Archer nods in heavy thought, looking at Derek, “You’ll double check on Dad right? Remember the stories about your uncle making it back?”

Derek hesitated, “Archer, as the Alpha I have a certain connection with the others and…” He hesitated, shaking his head, “I honestly haven’t felt that connection with your dad since last night.”

Stiles frowned himself. He’d have to push Derek for more information though he had no doubt that Scott was really and truly dead.

“Check.” Archer insisted, his eyes glassy and bright with inevitable tears.

Derek sighed, nodding, “I’ll check.” He glances over to where Stiles’ hand is shaking as he tries to grip the panhandle and pretend he’s okay but he keeps losing his grip.

“Do I have to go to school?”

“No.” Stiles tells him, “No, not for a week.” His dad kept him out of school for a week when Mom died. Derek shrugs, seeming to find nothing wrong with it.

Archer nodded somberly, “Rory’s awake. She keeps pretending she isn’t but I hear her crying. I tried to help but she snapped at me.”

“I’ll go.” Derek said firmly, patting Archer on the shoulder, “Stiles is making you breakfast.” He took Archer’s mug of coffee, “Pour yourself some orange juice. You know you aren’t allowed coffee on non-school days.” He poured it down the sink. 

Archer sighed as Derek leaves, Stiles handing him a plate of a runny egg and some chopped tomatoes. He doubts Archer will eat more that half of it. Sure enough, Archer picks at it while Stiles watches him with great thought. Arch definitely has Allison’s hair, down to the red highlights and her nose for sure. His blue eyes, Stiles assumes, is from her side of the family-her dad and grandad had blue eyes. Scott is perhaps most visible on the edges of Archer: in the set of his eyes, the olive-tinge of his complexion, the sheepish smile Stiles has seen on Archer’s face in happier times.

He still can’t believe that Scott and Allison managed to make and raise this gorgeous baby boy and on top of that, two beautiful little girls. And now, there were three orphans who had become Stiles’ responsibility.

He could barely take care of Mr. Catastic.

Stiles runs another hand through his hair. He needs a haircut.

 _He grins as he checks out his hair in the mirror. Bryan, his first boyfriend, had done the buzz job and Stiles was pretty impressed. Turning back to where Bryan was grinning indolently in his bed, he announced:_

_“I like it man.”_

_“You’re the cutest thing ever.” Stiles snorts, not knowing how Bryan can say that when he looks into a mirror every day. After all, he’s got the curly brown hair that Stiles loves to tug at and a pair of seriously ripped abs that compliment his hazel eyes. Okay, maybe not cute so much as hot._

_Stiles is still half amazed that he managed to start dating Bryan, but he laughed at Stiles’ bad joke when they met and asked him out without dropping a beat._

_Bryan watches Stiles feel the short buzz, “Very cute.”_

_“I haven’t had it this way since my sophomore year of high school.” Stiles paused in thought, thinking. His last buzzcut had been nearly a week before Scott stumbled in with a disappearing injury._

_“Want me to take a pic?” Bryan grabs his phone, grinning as Stiles makes a humorously flirtatious face and laughs. Stiles reached over to knock the phone out of his hand, kissing him hard. The kissing is new but Bryan is happy to take Stiles under his wing-he’s been out for a year already while Stiles is still a bit uncertain of himself. But he knows he really likes Bryan Lee._

_Later Stiles realizes that Bryan texted the pic to him and chuckles. It actually turned out pretty good and he uploads it as a new profile picture. Almost two hours later, he has eight likes._

_What really throws him is that he has a like from Derek Hale. He hadn’t even realized that Derek accepted his friend request after months of ignoring him. It must’ve happened during orientation last year when Stiles was getting friend requested/accepted by the dozens._

_Stiles stops himself from clicking on Derek’s profile. Ugh. He shoves the phone back into his pocket._


	2. March: Sheriff Hale Arrests Dumb Teenagers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek's point of view as he arrests some teenagers having a raucous party and lusts after Stiles in the morning, followed by some parent-teacher conferencing and heavy discussion.

Derek grinned broadly to himself as he got into the cop car with one of his deputies. The people congregating at 51 Eagle Hills had picked the wrong night to be noisy and underage. If he caught so much as a whiff of an open container or illicit drug, he would haul everyone’s ass into the station.

“You look happier than usual,” Isaac commented as Derek began to drive

“Dumb fuck-ups getting arrested makes me happy.”

Isaac shrugged, “You know, I’ve been noticing that you smell a bit different.” 

“We use Tide now. Scarlett got pissy when she smelled a generic brand on her clothes.” Three-year-old princess, that was Scarlett McCall, but Derek had a soft spot for her. So did Stiles, because he always read her another book and fetched her countless glasses of water (Derek’s limit was two).

Isaac nodded, “That was a pleasant change. I just meant that you smell…” He paused with great levity, “uh, _lusty_ , so to speak.”

Derek raised his eyebrow, “Don’t make me kick you out Lahey.”

Isaac held up his hands, “You know, Stiles…smells like it too.”

Derek sighed, squeezing the wheel so tightly he forced himself to relax his fingers, “I know.”

It drove him crazy.

“Why don’t you take advantage of it? You guys have been playing house for three weeks and everyone already thinks that you’re in a relationship anyway.”

Derek frowned, shaking his head, “There’s too much at stake.” He said it firmly and without room for any sort of discussion. Isaac fell silent, not wanting to press Derek further.

Derek grinned, feeling triumphant as they pulled up to the house in question, sirens blaring.

Kids spilled out from the front door to the lawn. They saw the red and blue lights, scattering in all directions. Derek took entirely took much joy in directing the eight or so other cops in corralling and zip tying the caught.

He glanced down at his phone. A text from Stiles:

_Rory’s humming!_

Derek froze, wanting to go home and hear it himself.

Rory, after all, hadn’t said a word since the crash. Derek was pretty sure that she’d been badly injured while Scott was healing himself in the aftermath. Seeing his daughter in bad shape, Scott must’ve focused all his energy on healing Rory until he pushed too far, already weak from the initial trauma.

Derek had been at the original scene, one of the first responders. Rory had some scratches and from the moment she climbed into his arms, he hadn’t let her go, his stomach twisting as he tried not to look at the bodies of her formerly very much alive parents.

 _What’s she humming_?

 _No idea. She stopped when she saw me_.

Derek frowned, tucking the phone back into his pocket as one of the cops brought a teenager over to him.

“Says he lives here, sir.”

“Where are your parents?” Derek half-drawled, crossing his arms, “And who supplied you with the alcohol?”

The kid shifted, looking nervous, “My dad works nights at the power plant and my mom’s out of town for a wedding. Come on man, I didn’t realize it was going to get out of control but someone brought the keg and-” He let out a stifled sob, “ _Please_ don’t tell my parents.”

The kid then had the bad taste to throw up, narrowly hitting Derek’s shiny black boots.

“We’re taking you to the station and _everyone’s_ calling their parents or guardians.” Derek yelled cheerfully amid a cast of groans, “Then I’m going to make every single one of you do fifteen hours of community service.” He eyed the trembling kid in front of him, “You get thirty for hosting.”

Derek let out a whistle as he walked back to his car, the deputy putting the kid in the back, along with two others that were handcuffed and also imploring that they be an exception to the punishment. Isaac rolled his eyes.

At six AM, Derek dragged himself home, feeling worn but euphoric. He could see that Stiles was already awake and busy in the kitchen. Derek had installed plenty of windows in the common rooms, wanting to bring in as much of the outside world inside.

He admired Stiles idly from his view next to the parked car. The younger man had the lean build Derek remembered, even dreamt about from time to time. His hair was longer, brushing past his ears, but Derek was sure he’d get a haircut soon enough, he could tell it’d been on Stiles’ mind.

He was making pancakes. The smell wafted over to where Derek stood. It was the sound of bacon sizzling that gravitated him inside. He felt grateful to have someone that took such joy in cooking. Even if neither of them were quite certain what to call each other without sounding like they were in a relationship together.

“Hey,” Stiles smiled at him as he flipped two pancakes on an empty plate and set it on the island, which was outfitted with three barstools. Derek could see that he was wearing a plaid apron over some old clothes, “Don’t forget, we have a parent-teacher conference for Rory at one thirty. Melissa’s taking Scarlett for lunch and nails then.”

Derek sat down and drowned his pancakes in syrup as Stiles returned to the griddle, his back to Derek, “Rory hummed?”

Stiles nodded, twisting around to grin at him, “I caught it by accident. I was putting laundry away in her room and she was playing with her ponies in her closet, _humming_.” He frowned, “I really don’t like her in that closet all the time.”

“She stopped when she saw you?”

Stiles nodded, shrugging, “She probably wasn’t aware that she was doing it. I called Dr. Nussbaum and he says we still have to take it at her pace, just be loving and encouraging and all that. The school’s also pairing her up with a guidance counselor and we’ll meet him at the parent-conference later. I’ll mention it.”

Derek nodded, taking another bite of the pancakes and closed his eyes in appreciation of how good they were.

“Thanks man, that little noise makes it all worth it. Plus your amazing cleaning skills.” Stiles joked.

Derek’s eyes flew open to see Stiles grinning as he took a sip of his coffee. There was that telltale tinge of lust coming from Stiles that Isaac mentioned, but Derek didn’t do anything other than cut his pancakes.

It didn’t mean anything. He’d sensed it nearly all the time, from men and women alike. It didn’t mean anything. Especially since Stiles walked around like that all the time. Derek could understand how a sixteen-year-old boy felt horny most of the time, but that it was still part of his main makeup in his early thirties surprised Derek.

“When are you going back to the hospital?”

“Not for another 24 hours.” Stiles sighed, shaking his head in disbelief, “I still can’t get over how…bucolic and sedate it is. I know it’s only been a week, but it’s still unbelievable. No trauma cases, no major surgery details…”

Derek shrugged, “Count your blessings.”

Stiles closed his mouth, nodding, “Something like that,” He set his mug down to pick up the teapot.

“Tea?” He was already bringing the teapot to Derek, knowing that Derek preferred chamomile after his shifts.

“Thanks man.” Derek said quietly, holding up his mug for Stiles. Derek forced himself to tamp it down as his eyes lingered on Stiles' tapered fingers.

“Saw on the morning news that you busted up a party.” Stiles added with a grin, “Had fun?”

Derek flattened out his face, not wanting Stiles to see him smile back, “I gotta deal with overseeing twenty three kids doing some kind of community service for the next two weekends.”

“Dad’s coming over for dinner. He might be able to give you some ideas.”

“Hmm.” Derek took a sip of his tea, “Thanks.”

“No problem Derek.” Stiles set down his mug, scratching the side of his head, “Speaking of parties, Rory turns seven in less than a month.”

Derek let out a groan, “Damn, really?” The kids were still adjusting and a birthday party…he didn’t think it was the right time for any kind of community celebration. Plus, everyone was walking on eggshells around Rory due to her newfound status as a mute. 

“I know.” Stiles sighed, “I was thinking that we could just take her somewhere special, just the two of us. Maybe San Francisco for the day or…” His voice trailed off.

Derek nodded, warming to the idea, “I think she’d like that. We’ll have dinner with Archer and Scarlett, of course. And the grandparents.”

“Yeah.” Stiles nodded absently as he chopped some strawberries, “I’ll make the pasta salad she likes and I saw a recipe for whole wheat cake pops-”

“ _I’ll_ take care of the cake.” Derek said firmly, “In fact, I’ll take care of all occasions that require a dessert.”

Stiles looked at him with amusement, “What about my birthday?”

“All occasions, Stiles.” Derek stated firmly

“Fine but I have veto power.” Stiles turned back to the griddle. Derek’s eyes rested on the white sweats Stiles hacked off at the knees, amused that Stiles had opted for the girls version with a pink UCLA emblazed over his rear (Stiles defended it by claiming it was a joke gift).

_He fumbled with his shirt as he heard Stiles’ jeep make the turn. Anyone could hear it from a mile away. Derek was quick to walk down, yanking open the door and smiling pleasantly at one of the deputies he and Scott worked with. He exchanged a few words with the guy before he walked inside._

_Another couple was getting out of their car with a baby. Derek had seen them before at some kind of picnic for Archer’s school. Stiles pulled in as the woman began to ask him about the renovation process._

_Derek didn’t know what he was saying as he watched Stiles hop out with the vigor of a young man with no worries. He watched Stiles zip up his jacket, emblazoned with a giant UCLA logo-the place where he was apparently thriving. Scott bragged about Stiles all the time, sharing lurid college stories of his best friend. Derek always pretended not to be listening._

_Apparently he even had a boyfriend. They’d met in some sort of typical cute fashion and the other boy had been taken by Stiles’ awkwardness. Derek had to stop himself from scowling as Scott retold Allison the story over dinner. He shoved the puréed carrots in poor Archer’s mouth a bit too harshly._

_And now here Stiles was, looking every bit a college kid. He still had the same swagger that Derek wanted to smack him for. Yet at the same time, he was genuinely taken by Stiles’ extreme loyalty and kindness. Both were features sadly lacking from most people._

_“Stiles.” Derek tried for a greeting as the couple left. He cleared his throat, scowling at himself, “You’re here.”_

_Stiles grinned a little too widely and Derek heard his heart pattering a bit nervously. Damn he’d scared the kid. Not the kid. The almost twenty-year-old young man._

_“I’m here.” He held up his present, wrapped up in gaudy orange with green ribbons, “Our godson is turning three.”_

_“What’d you get him? UCLA sweats to go with his shirt?” Derek asks laconically before he can stop himself._

_Stiles flushed red and Derek won’t apologize for it. It’s insane but he likes angering Stiles. Something about seeing him off balance makes Derek feel better. If only Stiles knew how off balance he made Derek feel._

_“No, I thought of something cooler.” His eyes sparkle with obvious joy. Derek desperately wishes he knows the secret, “What about you?” Stiles adds, “A mini leather jacket or some sort of remote controlled Camaro?”_

_He recognizes that Stiles is trying for an insult but it fell flat. Derek looks at him sideways, suddenly very taken by the creamy white expanse of skin on Stiles’ collarbone and mentally shakes himself out of it._

_“You’ll see.” Derek had carved Archer a duck and added some non-toxic paint and brushes so the kid could color it himself. Archer was obsessed with ducks after all, “Thanks for coming, Stiles.”_

_He needed to stop talking to Stiles. There was too much unresolved between them, “Party’s straight through to the backyard. Bathroom’s just off the kitchen. Don’t go upstairs and wander around.” The last thing is an afterthought, knowing that Stiles would do just that if he could._

_Stiles smiles widely at him, coming closer to Derek. Derek is thrown by an intense desire to grab Stiles by the collar and plant kisses on his face, “I guess you don’t want me to see the leather sheets and matching bedspread you picked out for yourself, huh?” His eyes sparkle and Derek has to clench his fists, remind himself about personal space._

_Derek kept the scowl on his face as Stiles walked off, greeting Scott warmly. His ears redden as he thinks of Stiles’ denim jacket in his closet. Stiles had left it in his car one night and Derek never returned it._

 

Derek is already sitting on the Reading Couch, Miss Partridge in a chair. She hasn’t stopped eyeing him since he walked in and introduced himself as Rory’s guardian. He ignores her overwhelming attraction, relieved when his ears pick up the sound of Stiles’ jeep. Ugh, Stiles needed to get a new car, of course, but it was damned convenient to have him driving that noisy, one of a kind jeep. Derek was rather thankful his father never had the heart to get rid of it. 

He would probably have to work on it this weekend though. Maybe do it with Archer as a bonding project. Stiles kept talking about bonding with the kids.

Stiles grins sheepishly as he walks in, “Sorry, had trouble finding the place.”

“Oh you're right on time,” The teacher tells him kindly, gesturing for Stiles to sit next to Derek.

Stiles hesitates, taking in the couch and debating it versus a child-sized chair. In the end, he opts to sit next to Derek. The overstuffed couch, which fits three to four seven year olds comfortably, is a tight fit for two men.

Derek can feel Stiles’ thigh pushed up against him as Stiles extends a hand to the teacher, “I’m Stiles, Rory’s other guardian.”

“Right, Dr. Stilinski.” She smiles warmly at him, “I’m Miss Partridge, Rory’s teacher.” She paused, “As we all know, this is a rather novel situation and we’re all just focused on what’s best for Rory.”

Stiles nods and Derek can feel his heart beating. Not just hear it, but with their shoulders pressed against each other, he can _feel_ Stiles’ anxiety which makes him want to gnash his teeth with frustration, a bad habit he rarely indulges.

“She’s doing well on all her written schoolwork,” The teacher continued, smiling, “I’ve been setting aside time for her to do individual play therapy and the guidance counselor comes in to observe.”

“Sorry, sorry.” A young man walks in, wearing wire rimmed glasses and a thick red sweater vest that has rumpled white collar sticking out. He smiles sheepishly, “I was talking to a student and lost track of time.”

He sits down, “I’m Dr. Ben Garrick, the guidance counselor assigned to your ward’s case.” He does a double take and looks at Stiles with interest, “You’re Sheriff Hale?”

“Dr. Stilinski.” Stiles corrects, shaking his hand

“Sorry, I was told that the ho-” He colors, “Sorry.” He settles for saying smoothly

“ _Ben_!” The teacher glares at him, also red, “Anyway, Ben comes in to observe Rory. Sometimes he plays with her.”

Ben cleared, and then sneezed loudly. Miss Partridge handed him a tissue and as he told the two parents his thoughts, there were a few more sneezes.

However, Derek couldn’t pay attention, all too aware of Stiles’ attraction to the counselor. His head is dizzy and all of a sudden, he realizes that Stiles is looking at him expectantly.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.” Derek apologized

Stiles rolls his eyes, “Ben is going to come to our house for a few group therapy sessions and help us work on our family dynamic. I told him that we’re free Monday afternoons.”

“Yeah.” Derek agreed, half frowning. Apparently now they were all calling the new guy Ben.

“Are you guys, by any chance- _achoo!-_ dog owners?” Ben asked, sneezing again

“4 dogs and a poodle, Derek likes to say.” Stiles informed him with amusement, before looking more concerned, “Oh, sorry, are you allergic? Derek’s always rolling around with them.” Stiles pats Derek on the shoulder and Derek half tensed, wanting the warmth of Stiles’ hand to linger.

Ben sneezed again, tweaking yet another tissue to his nose and smiled sheepishly, “Violently so. Would you mind having them in another part of the house when I’m there?” 

“No problem. I’ll make sure to clean.” Stiles assured him, glancing at Derek, “Not a problem.” 

Well there was a small problem since the guy was probably allergic to Derek, but they’d figure that out.

Derek was damn relieved to get off that couch, away from Stiles’ all too comforting but charged scent of lemongrass, antibacterial sanitizer and coffee.

“I look forward to working more in depth with you and your family.” Ben informed Stiles, smiling warmly as they shook hands again, “You have a very lucky little girl in your hands, I’m sure.”

“Thanks man.” Stiles smiled at him and Derek just wanted to hit the guy. Thinking about his allergy, Derek shook his hand and was secretly delighted when the most violent sneeze yet came out. Stiles glared at him but he didn’t care. 

_Scott let out a whoop as the Bruins scored another touchdown, “Ha! You get Archer’s next diaper.” He looked over at Archer who was making a face, “Looks like it’ll be any second now.”_

_Derek threw a pillow at Scott but he didn’t mind losing the bet. He had changed plenty of diapers as a teenager, thanks to the dozens of baby siblings and cousins underfoot. It was gross but he could do it._

_“Mind if I use your laptop to check Facebook? The sheriff finally figured out how to post that video he took of Archer last week.”_

_Derek nodded his consent, glancing over to where the wolfhound he rescued was stretched out, a half moon around the baby who was absorbed with his toy hammer and blocks. Derek leaned down and gave Barry a scratch, thinking he should probably get another one, for company._

_Everyone smelled it at the same time and Derek didn’t waste any time in plucking Archer off the floor, bound for the bathroom. Barry tried to take Archer’s discarded hammer, but Derek let out a quick growl that had the pup dropping it with guilt._

_Scott laughed at the exchange as he scanned the laptop. A play on the screen distracted him as he let out a whoop, which caused Archer to squeal and Derek smiled._

_Returning with a wriggly Archer, Derek saw that Scott had liked the video of the sheriff throwing Archer up in the air. It was actually pretty damn cute._

_He frowned, “Scott, you forgot to sign out.”_

_“Wha? Oh sorry man, but you don’t mind if I like a video of your godson, right? He’s only the cutest little man we know.” Scott pulled Archer over to his lap, not paying too much attention to Derek._

_Derek frowned, pulling out of the window, “You didn’t like anything else, did you?”_

_Scott paused in thought, “Oh yeah, Stiles changed his profile picture because of a haircut. I thought it was cool. You can unlike that, I guess.” He then blew a raspberry into Archer’s stomach and the baby’s squeal had Scott utterly captivated._

_Derek frowned and stared at the new picture, which was clearly showing that Stiles had a new haircut. But it was more than just the haircut that caught Derek’s attention: Stiles clearly wasn’t wearing a shirt, an old scar now faded on his shoulder. His brown eyes were partly hooded, a half sleepy smile on his face. The look had Derek stirring to attention in a way that he immediately beat down._

_He glanced back at the buzzcut. It brought back the memories of when he first dealt with the enigma that was Stiles. Derek remembered all too well, that feeling of being torn between absolute lust and disgust for the teenager._

_More than that, Derek wanted to run his hand through Stiles’ new hair, bite his lip and kiss every single freckle and mole that graced his clavicle. Of course, thankfully, clicking the thumbs up didn’t automatically convey that fact to Stiles._

_He wasn’t going to unlike the damn picture. Stiles had probably seen it by now after all._

_And Derek spent a number of nights looking at that picture on his screen._

Derek helped Stiles by chopping vegetables for dinner while Scarlett colored on the kitchen island, Barry lapping up water next to her. Two of the dogs were curled up in the corner and Puff, a tiny poodle, was next to Stiles, panting eagerly for the opportunity to have a dropped meatball.

Derek hadn’t meant to get a small dog, honestly. The idea of owning one that could be accidentally trampled by giant dogs worried him, but Puff had showed up one day and never left. No owner came to claim him and he knew that Scarlett had a marked preference for the brown poodle. She was constantly using him as a dolly after all.

Plus at least when Puff acted up, one of the big dogs never failed to put the pup in his place. Derek always laughed if Puff was feeling dramatic and tried to attack them. It reminded him rather endearingly of Stiles. Both of them had big hearts and presence.

“Dad’s coming by for dinner.” Stiles announced, though this wasn’t really news. John came to dinner every night unless he had a date with the mystery woman. Derek didn’t particularly care, but it drove Stiles crazy.

“He said he might bring a guest.” Stiles added casually, “Do you think it’s her?”

Derek shrugged, “I don’t know. Isaac and Cam are coming though.” He smiled as Scarlett held up her latest mess of doodles and scribble, “That’s gorgeous, sweetheart. Which one is the ostrich?”

“That is. And this is me riding him.” Scarlett explained matter of factly before setting down her paper and putting her hands under her chin, as if wanting to be taken _very seriously_ , “So I think we should have an ostrich.”

She looked the most like Scott out of the three kids. She had his inky black hair with the dark brown eyes that matched, and of course, his wolfy attributes.

But there were bits of Allison in the three year old. Her face had Allison’s shape and she had the same determined glint in her eye when she wanted to get her way. Derek saw that glint now, amused.

He nodded, pursing his lips as if he was actually considering the idea, “Well, if we have one then the dogs might want to eat him since they like ostrich meat.”

Scarlett looked horrified, “Oh no! Can’t they be vegetablarians like Archer?”

“Vegetarian, sweetheart.” Stiles corrects her from where he’s cooking the meatballs. His back is to them and Derek has no doubt that there’s an amused smile on his face.

“Dogs have to eat meat but we don’t have to,” Derek informed her, as he continues to chop, “It’s like their vitamins.”

“Oh.” Scarlett nodded, “Well that’s fair. I already love Puff and Barry and Axle and Cash and…” She looked around for the missing dog, a Bernese Mountain dog that Derek adopted five years ago, “Where’s Panda?” 

Archer had mistaken Derek’s newest pup with an actual panda and the name stuck. Derek shrugged, glancing around, “He’s probably hanging out with Rory.” Panda was particularly attached to Rory these days, Derek noticed.

“Oh.” Scarlett began to color on a new sheet of paper, “I’m going to draw a picture of Mommy and Daddy in heaven.” 

Derek and Stiles exchanged a look (no easy feat since they were back to back.) Stiles half nodded, and they switched, Derek at the stove and Stiles at the island.

“Don’t you dare give him a meatball,” Stiles muttered, knowing that Derek has a weakness for the puffball of a poodle. Puff even wagged his tail with anticipation. 

Stiles gave Scarlett a warm smile as he resumed Derek’s vegetable chopping, “You draw such pretty pictures, Scarsie-Scoot.”

“Uh huh.” She looked at him thoughtfully, “They’re going to go down the waterslide into the Heaven hotel pool. Daddy likes waterslides.”

Stiles nodded. He and Derek had opposite problems with the girls. Rory wasn’t sharing anything and Scarlett shared too much. 

“That’s very true. I bet he misses going on the waterslide with you.”

“I miss him too. I’ll make him take me to a waterslide when he comes back,” Scarlett informed him

Stiles nodded, stopping his chopping to press a hand to the picture, “Sweetie, I’m very sorry but your daddy can’t come back from heaven.”

Scarlett patted his outstretched hand, “That’s because Mommy’s slowing him down. He always gets super mad when she’s in the potty.”

Stiles paused. In any other context, this would be hilarious, but not now. He swallowed, pulling back his hand to chop, though it was slower and more methodological, “Sweetie, do you remember when we buried your daddy and your mommy?” 

“Uh huh?” Scarlett looked at him with that confused look on her face, just like his damn intern back in Seattle and Stiles just wanted to hug her, “I wore my Christmas dress.”

“Well, we said good bye to them…forever.”

Scarlett nodded, “I know. Forever means a really, _really_ long time.”

Stiles sighed, smiling at her, “Yeah. Yeah, it does.” He lifted up his shoulders once, showing Derek he tried. Derek patted him on the shoulder and neither of them said anything about it. 

That night at dinner, Stiles’ dad came by himself, much to Stiles’ disappointment. Derek laughed and handed him a beer as he looked at Scarlett’s latest drawings on the refrigerator. The old man pointed at one of them, curious, 

“What’s this?”

Derek laughed out of anxiety, “Oh uh, Scarlett made a picture of me and Stiles. I’m the one with the hat and star.”

They were holding hands, as if they were supposed to be drawn like Daddy and Mommy. That was probably because Scarlett didn’t see any difference between their relationship and her parents’ relationship.

Yet another thing they’d have to explain to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here is the second chapter. I'm feeling pretty good so far about this story! I've gotten a lot written and I'm amused by most of it, which is always good. My editing isn't the best, so please feel free to let me know if I've made a major error. I'll be happy to fix it for the sake of future readers.


	3. March: Dr. Stilinski Has A Playdate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles navigates the intricacies of a play-date with the school counselor, Derek, the full moon, and the kids' other issues.

“Stiles, we both have to be home.” Derek reminds him quietly, “I’ll have my hands full with Scarlett because of the full moon tonight.” 

Stiles fiddled with his coffee mug, not wanting to look up at Derek. Scarlett is a fairly docile creature. He’s never even seen her wolf out the way Scott did but he supposes it’s different when one is born with the gene.

“Maybe I should take Rory and Archer to Dad’s.” Stiles ventured, “It’s supposed to storm tonight.”

Derek shook his head, reaching down to scratch Barry, “We’ll be fine here. Scott and Allison got her through 39 full moons without hurting anyone.”

Stiles sighed, raking a hand through his now-cropped hair. He managed to get a trim last weekend with Archer and now the pair had matching cuts, though Archer’s had a bit more flair than Stiles, being an old guy and all that.

“I gotta take the dogs on a walk.” Derek takes another bite of his breakfast sandwich, “Make sure Archer and Rory get on the bus.”

“I always do.” Stiles muttered. After all, he had to drive them the ten minutes to that bus stop. Then he usually just stopped in to badger his father before going to the hospital.

Today was an off day though since he was off shift for another 20 hours or so.

Stiles paused, remembering something, “Oh Derek! Ben-the guidance counselor-he’s coming by this afternoon for that home-therapy session with Rory.”

Derek scowled, but nodded and left. Stiles rolled his eyes at Derek’s reaction-Sourwolf did not like strangers in his home, but it was for a good reason after all. Additionally, Stiles guessed Derek also did not like participating in therapy.

He rubbed the back of his neck as Archer bounded in, letting out a sigh, “Stiles, today’s the day.”

“It is?” Stiles set down a bowl of Cheerios with cut up strawberries and bananas. Archer didn’t like most breakfast foods and Stiles wasn’t making him eggs every day. Too unhealthy, “Milk or orange juice?”

“Coffee, no milk and a splash of sugar.” Archer took a bite of his cereal. He was wearing a pair of basketball shorts and an old Sublime t-shirt Stiles recognized from Scott’s middle school days. Archer had been wearing a lot of his dad’s old clothes, in fact.

He’d probably outgrow it soon though.

“ _One_ cup.” Stiles handed it to him. It hadn’t taken long to recognize that the fourteen year old had a serious coffee addiction.

“Thanks man.” Archer grinned, holding up his mug: “Today is the day Aubrey falls in love with me.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow, “That sounds like a pretty epic day. Tell me about this girl.”

“She’s amazing and smart and nice and beautiful an-” Stiles waved a hand for him to stop talking, amused,

“Alright, I got the gist. What’s your plan?”

Archer grinned, “Okay, so we have study hall together and today we’re rotating which means that she and I are going to sit at the same table for the next week.”

Stiles nodded, “Sure. So you’re going to what, pass her notes?”

“No, the supervising teacher doesn’t let you do that.” Archer explained awkwardly, drumming his fingers on the counter as he took another bite.

Stiles cocked his head, “So what’s the plan, big man?”

Archer exhaled, “I was going to smile and ask if she wanted to run through Spanish drills with me. We have flash cards and as long as we’re quiet, the teacher won’t care if we run through them.”

Stiles frowned, “Okay, so how are you going to do the love thing?”

Archer grinned, holding up his cards, which were scrawled with Spanish vocabulary terms, “I snuck in a question between cards. I’m going to ask her if she wants to go to Spring Fling with me.”

“Ah!” Stiles grinned, “You’re an old class romantic just like your dad.”

He half froze as Scott’s laugh came throughout the room. Archer didn’t seem to have noticed and Stiles relaxed, knowing it was just his mind. Grief did that.

Archer looked at him curiously, appearing thoughtful, “How did Dad get Mom?”

Stiles laughed, shaking his head, “The very day after the night he became a werewolf, your dad went to school and heard her-with his new werewolf senses, mind-freaking out about not having a pen to her mother on her phone.” Stiles paused thoughtfully, “She entered the class, looking like this amazing gorgeous thing and your dad was lost.”

“That’s _exactly_ like me and Aubrey.” Archer exclaimed, “Except for the part where she’s the new kid and I’m a newly turned werewolf.”

Stiles nodded in thought, “Well bud, Allison sat in the empty seat behind Scott and before any other guy had the chance to so much as breathe, your dad made his move.”

“What was it?” Archer’s eyes grew wider

Stiles made a noncommittal noise, “He turned around, flashed Allison these ladykiller peepers of his and offered her a pen. I assume that’s the part where she decided that she liked him too.”

Archer laughed, “Really, a pen and a smile? I like my idea better.”

Stiles shrugged, “Hey, the guy only had thirty seconds between when he saw her and she sat down. But I did a lot of thought-out shit like that in high school for Lydia Martin.”

Archer smiled amused, “Did you get her?”

Stiles thought about it, “Not really, no. She was too hung up on this other guy. But she remains the single female that I’ve ever truly lusted after. At one point we finally had the kiss I dreamed of since sixth grade and-” Stiles let out a pop: “Nothing.”

“Nothing.” Archer repeated

“She knew some stuff.” Stiles let out a laugh, “And at the time, I was jazzed about it, but then I…” He shrugged, “I don’t know, I just wasn’t into it.”

“That makes sense since you’re gay and all.” Archer took one last bite of his cereal, “I’m going to run to the bus stop. I need to get faster for basketball. First period is gym anyway.”

“Don’t overdo it!” Stiles yelled as Archer grabbed a bottle of water. It would probably take him a good twenty minutes and Stiles went upstairs to make sure that Rory was getting ready. If she could, she would sleep in longer. Just like Daddy.

_Stiles put in a box of Wheat Thins in the cart, whistling good-naturedly. Today was a good day. He just got accepted into Stanford Med, Yale Med and fucking Johns Hopkins. His dad was probably calling people in the Beacon Hills phone book just to tell them._

_He decided to pick up a cake mix and whip one up to add to the celebration when he heard his name called._

_“Stiles!” Stiles looked up from where he had been inwardly debating the nutritional content of different Betty Crocker flavors to see a familiar green-eyed stranger with cheekbones so sharp that Stiles was sure they could cut glass._

_“Stiles!” The little boy in his cart waved enthusiastically, “Stiles is here!”_

_“Yeah I am!” Stiles grinned and walked over to ruffle Archer’s hair, “Hey, Scott here?”_

_“Allison got a flat and he went to go change her tire. Asked me to deal with the grocery list and Arch.”_

_“Oh.” Stiles paused, scratching his head, wishing stupidly that Scott had thought to ask him, “That’s cool.”_

_“Can you help us? I can’t find Apawe nectar.” Derek held up the list awkwardly_

_Stiles smiled despite himself, “I think Scott wrote Agave. Don’t worry, I’m an expert in when it comes to his scribbles and scrawls.” He wasted no time taking the list from Derek, scanning it as he pushed his cart, Derek behind him, “Agave’s over here, man”_

_He bends down to grab it and when he stands to hand it to Derek, he could’ve sworn Derek looked up and his ears were tinged with red. Stiles did a double take, wondering if he caught Derek staring at his ass._

_He did have a good ass, Stiles decided he was okay with that. In fact, he was single and more than 50% sure that Derek had some kind of interest in him. And it might be good to get real closure with another crush from his teenage years._

_Their fingers touched and Stiles turned red despite himself._

_“Thanks.” Derek put it in the cart_

_They continued shopping side by side. At one point, Archer got fussy and Derek handed him a bag of fruit snacks. Stiles admired how good he was with the kid. They talked about the Dodgers game from the day before._

_After Derek paid, Stiles grinned, his eyes squinting as he bent to tickle Archer lightly, “I’ll see you later Archy-fartsy.”_

_He squealed with laughed, huge blue eyes looking delighted, “Bye Stiles.”_

_Stiles stood back up and grinned at Derek, “If you’re free tonight, we should watch the Dodgers game at the sports bar that just opened up. It’ll be fun.” There, that didn’t directly imply a date and they were already friends of a sort after all. It gave Stiles the opportunity to figure out Derek._

_Derek looked at him, his eyes widening slightly, “I-”_

_“Oh Stiles!” Danny’s mom waved at him, rushing over for a hug as Derek pulled Archer up into his free arm, the tot looking at the new woman with mild alarm._

_“Congratulations on all these medical schools! You’re such an impressive young man. Oh and you’re going to be a doctor! How wonderful. I’m sure it’ll be Johns Hopkins.” Danny’s mom, Mrs. Mahealani, gushed._

_“Oh thanks Mrs. M.” Stiles grinned, as he pulled out of her hug with warm amusement, “Danny’s pretty impressive too. I hear through the small town gossip that he landed a pretty sweet job with Google.”_

_“I’m so proud of my boy.” She sighed affectionately, “It’s a shame you two never went out together. The pictures would’ve been wonderful and I could get away with putting some fat on you and your father’s bones.”_

_Stiles nodded sheepishly, “You are definitely a wonderful cook.” He smiled, “You know Derek and Archer right?”_

_She smiled at them, “Of course! Scott’s adorable toddler and the nanny.” She cooed at Archer, “I can’t wait until Danny gives me a grandchild, honestly. You stay in touch honey,”_

_“Of course,” Stiles nodded, shaking his head in amusement as she walked off with her own groceries. He turned back to Derek, smiling expectantly._

_Derek let out a tight smile as he balanced Archer on his lean hip (no easy feat), “I’m on shift tonight. Sorry.”_

_Stiles frowned as Derek left, Archer waving happily from his place on Derek’s side, “Another time, I guess.” Stiles muttered as he walked out the other way, even though it was longer to his car._

Stiles set up the girls in the living room. Archer called to explain that practice was going to run late. Stiles asked about Aubrey and he glossed over it, clearly not wanting to talk. 

“Actually, Stiles…” Archer paused, “I think I’m going to go to Joey’s for dinner. His mom said I could come.”

Stiles sighed. He had seen Joey’s mom around Derek and he was fairly sure that she was interested in him, “Yeah alright buddy. Tell Joey’s mom Derek will pick you up.” He would prefer to pick up Archer himself, but he had a night shift.

“Cool, Stiles, thanks.” Archer hung up and Stiles set the phone down, returning to the living room.

“You girls want to play Hide and Seek?” Stiles asked, referring to Scarlett’s favorite game.

She shook her head, nodding at Rory, “Rory wants to play Candyland.”

Rory’s eyes lit up as she nodded with confirmation.

Stiles didn’t let the groan on his face show. He hated Candyland, “How about a puzzle?”

“Candyland.” Scarlett persisted at Rory’s determined little shake.

Stiles sighed, “Okay, we’ll play Candyland. Dr. Garritty probably likes that game. He’s coming to the house like…nowish.” Stiles checked his watch.

Rory’s expression turned a bit mulish, but she nodded.

“Is Derek coming too?” Scarlett asked

“I’m here already pip.” Derek walked in, Panda and a hulk of a great Dane named Axle following him into the room. Panda let out a happy doggy face, making his way toward Rory who hugged him tightly. Scarlett gave the steel-colored Axle a few kisses and ear scratches before turning back to the game.

Stiles paled, “Shit _Derek_ , he’s allergic to dogs. Go round up the beasts and put them upstairs.”

Derek frowned, “You know, he could be allergic to werewolves too.” He glanced over to Scarlett who wasn’t paying attention to their exchange.

Stiles scowled at him, “Unlikely. It’s not like you’re a huge mass of fur and drooling saliva right now.” He paused, “I’m _sure_ it’s because you roll around with these dogs and let them snuffle you everywhere. Go take a shower and find clothes that aren’t covered in dog hair.”

Derek half scowled but stomped upstairs, yelling, “Barry! Panda! Axle! Cash! Puff!”

All the dogs quietly followed him upstairs though they were usually confined just to the first floor (except for Puff who saw himself as a bit too above rules-of-the-house nonsense, yipping as he nipped heels with glee).

“They snuffle us too.” Scarlett pointed out, pulling the Candyland box off the board game shelf.

Stiles frowned. “If it looks bad, we’ll have Derek throw you both in the shower.”

Scarlett cackled, amused, “Can I take mine with the doggies?” She had seen Derek hosing off Axle and Cash yesterday and wanted to participate.

“They’re set for a while.” Stiles said, “And you have your bathtime tonight with Derek. You’ll sail off to the Island of the Parrots and overtake a motley band of pirates.”

“What’s motley?”

Stiles paused in thought, “Well, in the sense of pirates, it means that there’s a lot of them that look alike.”

“Big and scary?”

“Not too big and scary for Captain Scarlett and First Mate Derek.” He assured her, eyes soft. He had always liked talking to kids but there was something different about talking to Scarlett and Archer. He especially enjoyed doing bathtime with Scarlett but he could only do Wednesday and the weekends.

He turned to Rory, his silent girl, “Now Rory-porgie-gorgeous, do you want to be green, red or blue?

She smiled at him, holding up one finger: green. Stiles handed it to her and Scarlett took yellow, her favorite color.

Stiles took red for himself, saving blue for Ben.

The doorbell rang and Stiles grinned, “There’s our friend! Rory, be nice.”

She sighed but nodded as Stiles went up to let Ben in.

Ben smiled at him from the other side, wearing plaid shorts and a blue v-neck. It was surprisingly casual but Stiles supposed it made sense for the home visit.

“Hey, welcome!” Stiles let him in and Ben admired the house. It was hard not to, with the exposed wood, the abundance of glass windows. Additionally, Stiles liked to think that he and the kids had gave the place a more lived-in, toys scattered in chaotic organization family feel rather than the ‘a man and five dogs live here’ hermit and dog hair touch.

“Thanks Stiles. It’s a beautiful home.” Ben informed him honestly, glancing at him, “I can see why your partner has so many dogs.”

Stiles nodded, “We’re not really partners, since we aren’t in a romantic relationship. We’re just raising the kids together. Still haven’t figured out a one word statement for it.”

Ben laughs, his eyes sparking with a kind of interest that Stiles usually only sees on the floor of gay clubs or the upscale bookstore in town.

Stiles bulldozes over any potential tension, “All the dogs are upstairs with Derek and we have the expensive tissues. If it doesn’t work out, I guess we could do some kind of outside family thing with you. Archer, the oldest, isn’t here but Scarlett and Rory are playing Candyland. Obsessively, I should add.”

“That’s fine. Just a casual home visit and I’m a Candyland master.” Ben assured him, and sniffed the air, “Do I smell brownies?”

Stiles grinned, “Yeah, they’re cooling right now. We do snack at 3:30.”

“Milk?”

“Of course, we’re not heathens.”

Ben looked at Stiles with genuine admiration and Stiles grinned back, thinking that this guy was pretty cute.

Maybe he should do a date or two. It’s been a while after all. But should it really be Rory’s guidance counselor?

Ben sneezes a few times, but it isn’t so bad until Derek shows up. Derek’s showered and changed, that much is plain, but Stiles sees dog fur all over his shirt and pants. He probably couldn’t find a pair that the dogs hadn’t had access to. He (intentionally?) sits next to Ben, watching the game quietly.

Stiles doesn’t miss how Rory gravitates toward Derek until he plucks her into her lap, giving her an absentminded kiss as she watches the board with grim determination. Stiles still isn’t sure where she got her competitive streak from-Scott was never that bloodthirsty. Maybe Allison, Stiles knows she couldn’t stand losing to other people in bowling.

Ben’s eyes are starting to water as he sneezes frantically, “I’m- _achoo!_ Sorry, I need to lea- _achoo!_ ”

Scarlett is laughing as if he’s performing some kind of routine. Stiles stopped her clapping, mortified by her delight. He shoots Scarlett a look as he stands up to try and help the poor man.

“I’ll walk you out. And you’re getting some brownies, don’t think I didn’t see how excited you were.”

Ben looks at Stiles gratefully, “Sorry, I’m a-a- _achoo!_ cat person.”

“Me too.” Stiles sighed, wondering how Mr. Catastic is doing with his dad. He still drops by most mornings after the kids go to school, to feed him and make his dad decaf coffee, “But the dogs are a package deal with Derek and the kids love them.”

Ben nodded, “I’m _achoo!_ Sure they’re attached.” He sheepishly wipes his nose with the last of the tissues in the tissue box and accepts Stiles’ Tupperware container, “When do you pick up Rory? I’d love to return this.”

Stiles had them take the bus home but he decided there was no harm in coming to pick up Rory himself, “Tomorrow, actually. I’ll come a little early and grab this from you. We’ll talk.”

Ben grins at Stiles, “See you _achoo!_ Then.”

Stiles grinned all the way back to the living room where Derek’s eyes are sharp with annoyance.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Derek mutters, glancing over at the Candyland game, “Rory, how about a puzzle?” Stiles inwardly thanks Derek for the suggestion. The kids are more likely to listen to him, much to Stiles’ frustration.

Rory shakes her head, but gets up to bring another game over: Monopoly. Ugh.

Stiles looks at his watch with relief to see that it’s 3:30, “Actually, it’s time for brownies and milk. Then we’ll have some light coloring.”

The girls happily abandoned their game and Derek began putting things away. Stiles frowns,

“ _Girls_! Come help Derek clean up.”

“Please!” Derek adds, an undercurrent of the Alpha voice that Stiles recognizes. He scowls at the flash of Derek’s assholish grin that shows itself before Derek shifts to a more neutral scowl.

The two came back, faster than Derek in gathering up the pieces and content to just throw it in. They also put it away and Stiles pulls Derek up from the floor, still drawn by his smirk. Their hands are warm together and Stiles feels those tingles all over that usually show up when Derek’s around.

But he’s all glowery and broody, probably because of the dogs being stuck in a room.

“I’ll get some dogtreats out for the giants and Puffman.” Stiles added, brushing stray pieces of fur off Derek’s shoulder.

“Thanks.” Derek said, standing up as he brushes off another section of fur.

 

_Stiles grinned as he adjusted Scott’s bow tie, “My boy is getting married.”_

_“I already feel married.” Scott says awkwardly, smiling all the same, “I do have the kid part taken care of.” He glances over to where Archer is happily performing summersaults on the couch, “Archer stop. Mommy doesn’t want your clothes wrinkled.”_

_“I’m practicing for gymnastics!”_

_Derek moved from where he’d been watching them and plucked Archer into his arms mid tumble. He pulls the squealing six-seven?-year old kid up on his shoulders. Archer’s hands dig into Derek’s hair, mussing it up with glee. Stiles can’t help but stare at how relaxed Derek is. It makes him look so-_

_Derek’s gaze settles on him, cutting off his thoughts. A coil of electric tension intensifies as Stiles ducks away, busying himself with Scott’s boutonnière._

_“Ok,” The wedding planner walks in, looking frazzled, “Scott, your mom is waiting for you to walk her down. Stiles and Derek should also get ready to lead the wedding party.”_

_“Whoa, whoa, what?” Stiles asked, confused. He had just flown in that morning, hadn’t been at the rehearsal the night before because the hospital needed him for an extra twelve hours._

_Scott frowns at him, “Allison and I decided that you and Derek are both best men. Derek is going to go on Allison’s side and you take mine. I told you this in a voicemail last night, man.”_

_Stiles sighs. He knows there’s no point in explaining how he has no life as a first-year intern. Instead, he just takes the latest hit with a wince._

_“I’m sorry. Uh, what about Lydia as maid of honor?”_

_“She’s actually the flower girl. She’s walking with Archer, was super excited about it.” Scott shrugged, “Apparently flower girl is where the real action is at.”_

_Stiles looked at Derek who seemed to be judging him for not knowing. Stiles frowned, feeling out of sorts, “We’re both your best man?”_

_“Our best men.” Scott corrected, “Me and Allison know who our biggest supporters are in terms of our relationship.”_

_Stiles nodded, looking over at Derek who doesn’t have any sort of facial reaction as he holds Archer in place, “That’s fine, I have no problem walking with Derek.”_

_“Don’t worry,” Scott grinned, “We’re not much for convention so we aren’t going to make you dance together at the reception or anything.”_

_Stiles nods once, thinking that he wouldn’t protest at the opportunity. Stiles turns over to Derek, grinning._

_He manages to get Archer off Derek and turning his smile to a semi-smirk, “I fully expect us to be synchronized.”_

_Derek nods, “It’s good to see you Stiles.” The first works he’s said to Stiles since Stiles arrived almost a half-hour ago, half-in his tux._

_Stiles is thrown by the compliment but Derek walks out before he can think of a question or ask if it’s some sort of insult._

_“Let’s dance anyway.” Stiles catches up to grin at him while the wedding planner all but pushes Scott out the door, toward the service. “Convention and all that, right?”_

_“Fine.” Derek says slowly, as if unsure of what Stiles’ motive is._

_Stiles sticks out his elbow and Derek runs a hand through it. The wedding planner looks them over and frowns, rearranging their hands until Stiles is holding onto Derek’s upper arm-his bicep really-with their other hands behind their back._

_“Perfect!” She smiles sunnily at them and frowns at Derek, “Mr. Hale, please don’t scowl. It’s a wedding and for twenty minutes, I don’t want to see anything more than a smile.”_

_Stiles is very aware of how comfortable this feels. It’s a shame that it has to be prickly Derek Hale that makes him feel this comfortable. He doesn’t dare look at Derek’s face as the wedding planner flounces off. He’s very aware, however, of how muscled Derek’s upper arm is and the information does weird things to Stiles’ brain._

_However, once Stiles is situated at Scott’s side, he can’t help but glance at Derek, who has a smile on his face, which looks more ferocious than anything else. It makes him laugh and Scott shoves an elbow in his rib as the bridal march plays._

_As a glowing Allison walks down, Stiles can’t help but look at Derek, wondering if Allison is amused by his carnivorous smile as she walks toward Scott._

_But Derek’s smile, a rare sight in itself, is softer and so ethereal that Stiles can’t help but shudder. They lock eyes again and this time, Derek looks away as Allison embraces Scott with a well-timed kiss._

_“Hey, hey, time to get married you lovebirds!” Stiles yells when it goes on. Everyone chuckles as the affianced couple smile at Sheriff Stilinski, who agreed to officiate._

Stiles yawned again as a plaintive howl went through the house. Poor Scarlett. He wanted to get up and hug her, but Derek had given him specific instructions, which basically detail that he has to let Derek take care of Scarlett during the full moons. 

Stiles sighed and decided to check on Archer and Rory. Thunder boomed again and he shuddered. Stiles didn’t like thunderstorms. He actually preferred to work during them because the hospital took him to a place where he was too distracted to think about thunderstorms.

Archer was fast asleep. A flash of lightning revealed that he was drooling on his pillow and his clothes were all over the floor. Typical teenager. Stiles made a note to tell Archer that he needed to clean up his room.

Closing the door, Stiles softly walked over to Rory’s room. He could see by the soft pink of her nightlight that she was wide-awake, clutching Panda’s fur. Unlike Rory, Panda was as asleep as Archer.

Her brown eyes were wide with evident fear and Stiles wasted no time in walking over to comfort her,

“Oh Gorgeous Rorgeous,” He whispered, knowing that she liked his little non-names. He kissed her softly on her head, “It’ll be gone soon. Do you wanna read a book?”

She shook her head, dropping her clutch on Panda to really hug him. Stiles puffed his chest out a bit at being chosen over Panda, Rory’s most prized companions as he stroked her soft brown hair. Rory pointed to a picture on her night-stand: Scott and Allison laughing together as they held a baby in their arms. Stiles assumed it was Rory.

Stiles smiled, “You want a story about your parents huh?” He picked up the photo, looking at it in the pink glow of the nightlight to confirm that it was Baby Rory. He set it back down, thinking.

“Ah, I’ve got a good one.” Stiles smiled at her, “In high school, your dad wasn’t allowed to go to Winter Dance. He knew that your mom really wanted to go, so he decided that he’d ask this hot guy to take her instead, make sure that she had a good time. Then, after all that, he went anyway. He wore his nicest-well, his only-suit. Actually I don’t think it was that nice since he told me that Grandma had to sew a rip in his pants.”

Rory let out a soft, almost breathless giggle. It nearly captivated Stiles. She looked at him expectantly

“Dad rode his bicycle to the school. All the drivers on the road saw this crazy teenager wearing a suit and helmet, trying to bike like the wind.” He chuckled, “Once he got to school, he snuck onto the roof and slipped into the gym from there.” Stiles chuckled, “Of course, Coach Finstock was keeping his eyes peeled to make sure Scott wasn’t going to show up.”

Rory looked at him with wonder, and Stiles couldn’t help but do a double take. She had Allison’s face and Stiles half-heard Allison’s laughter run through his head.

She poked him lightly, wanting to hear the rest of the story. Stiles absently patted her head, continuing, “Right. Allison-your mom-was having a bad time with the hot guy that your dad asked. She saw your dad and so did Coach Finstock.”

Rory gasped, her eyes wide

Stiles chuckled, “Scott looked around and ran toward a friend of ours named Danny who was gay. Everyone genuinely liked him.” Stiles paused in thought, “Scott asked Danny to dance and the coach felt like he couldn’t ask Scott to leave because it was sending the message that he didn’t approve of two boys dancing together.”

Rory smiled, burying her head into Stiles’ arm as she kept listening.

“So Scott got to stay and danced all of his dances with your mom. About ten or so years after that, they had you.”

Rory smiled, yawning as Stiles continued, “And I guess, in ten years, you’ll be going to these dances and stuff.”

He paused in thought, “Actually, no. Let’s make it sixteen years to be safe.”

She nodded absently, yawning. Stiles smiled, kissing her on the head, “That counts as agreement, honey bunches of oats.” He yawned, suddenly feeling more tired than before. However, he never really fell asleep, Scarlett’s periodical whimpers tearing at his heart.

Next full moon he was going to help, no matter what Derek had to say about it.


	4. March: Sheriff Hale Has A Bad Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek has a difficult time keeping it all together. Thankfully, Stiles knows when to drop in for an assist.

Derek had the girls strapped down in the back seat of Allis- _his_ -mom Volvo. Driving still made Rory anxious and she insisted on wearing her old car booster. Scott and Allison had stopped using it a few months ago but Derek and Stiles felt better with her in it anyway. They had almost lost her once, after all.

He stopped in front of the high school and Archer climbed in with his backpack and basketball stuff. His earbuds were already plugged in and from the scowl on his face, Archer didn’t seem to be in a good mood.

“How was your math test?” Derek asks, knowing Archer had been anxious about the unit exam.

Archer frowned, his eyes sharp with frustration, “I didn’t do great.” He crossed his arms and glanced at Derek, “What are we waiting for?”

“Buckle up.” Derek informed him, deciding not to comment on the math test for now. Instead, he taps his fingers against the wheel.

As he was about to shift gears, someone shrieks out his name. He glances over at Archer’s window to see a woman with a great deal of different animal print fashions arranged around her person.

“Mr. Hale!”

Archer lets out a groan as he rolls down his window. Derek elbows him to stop, looking at the woman as she slows to a stop, wasting no time with a broad smile on her face. Derek doesn't like how wide it is.

“Mr. Hale-”

“That’s Sheriff Hale,” Archer corrects. Derek can tell from his tone that Archer doesn’t like this woman very much.

“Either is fine.” Derek cuts in and gave her a polite smile, “How can I help you?”

“I’m Wendy Greenberg, the head of the Beacon Hills High PTA. You might remember me from the funeral?”

“Sorry.” Derek apologized, thinking that she must not have been wearing so many different animal prints that day.

“Mr. McCall is the vice president and very helpful in several key projects we do over the year. Now while we don’t expect you or Dr. Stilinski to replace him, we are... _hoping_ that one of you could help us out with the upcoming musical.”

Derek raised one eyebrow, a clear sign of annoyance, “Help how?”

“Mr. McCall oversaw all the building and different technical crews. We’re really in a bind here and he mentioned that he learned everything he knows about construction from Derek Hale." 

Derek couldn’t help but puff up a bit at the compliment, “I could help with that.”

“Fantastic. And we’ll see you at the bake sale too, of course!” She smiled and glanced at Archer, “Archer, it’s wonderful to see you.”

“Sure, Mrs. Greenberg.” Archer said with a smile as fake as Derek’s. As she left, he rolled with his window with a sigh, “She’s _so_ annoying.”

Derek privately agrees, unsure of the bake-sale remark, “Are we attending a bake sale?”

“Yeah, it’s for the team.” Archer puts in his earbuds, “For our new uniforms. Dad signed up to do lemon bars a month ago. Stiles said he’d do it.”

Derek shook his head, amazed by how involved Scott was with his kids’ scholastic life, “Why did Scott get so involved with the PTA?”

Archer shrugged, ducking down to stare at his hands as he rubbed them against the jeans. He was clearly agitated, “Dunno. Are we going to Gramma and Pops?”

“We are.” Derek confirmed, feeling bad for bringing up the topic when it was clear that Archer wasn’t in a place to talk about his dad, “I have a shift starting in a half hour. Stiles gets off at 7:30 and he’ll pick you up.”

“Can I sleep over at Joey’s?”

Derek frowned, “Joey Alcott? I thought you didn’t like him, Cub.”

Archer shrugged, fiddling with his seatbelt, “I like him fine. Don't call me Cub.”

“What about Graham?” Derek asked, glancing at the 14 year old with surprise. Graham Davidson had been Archer’s best friend since first grade and now that Derek thought about it, he hadn’t even seen Archer and Graham together in a few weeks.

Archer tensed, fiddling with his thumbs, “He’s obsessed with his girlfriend. She has to hang out with us _all_ the time.”

Derek nods in amused understanding, “It’s a school night. You can’t sleep over at Joey’s. But you can invite him to sleep over here on Friday. Stiles will be home all night and I’m on shift until ten or so.”

“Can we go on a ride-along?”

“Maybe.” Derek made a note to run it by Isaac. The boys are old enough and he thinks that it might help them stay on the right side of the law.

“Can I come?” Scarlett piped up from the back seat, her brown eyes bright with interest.

“No.” Derek glances at her, “You need your beauty sleep for our tea party on Saturday, princess.”

He and the girls had been doing tea parties every Saturday for lunch. Stiles thought it was the most hilarious thing ever. Stiles, as their butler, made tea and little sandwiches. Last time, he’d even made blueberry mini-muffins. Scarlett and Rory loved it, especially the part where they were allowed to pick one tea accessory (each) for Derek to wear during tea party time.

Derek noticed that Stiles was buying them more tea-related outfits. He’d have to get back at him somehow.

He pulled to a stop in front of Melissa’s house and frowned at the lawn. It was pretty wild, an un-mowed mess with almost six inches of grass and the occasional weed popping out. Clearly no one, not even Chris, had touched so much as a blade since Scott mowed it on the last Thursday of his life. Derek let out a sigh, wondering if Melissa was okay.

Archer glanced at his sisters, not paying any attention to Derek’s gaze, “I’ll help you with the car seats.”

Archer had been seven years old when Scott and Allison finally got their own place instead of moving back and forth between Chris and Melissa. However, Melissa broke down on a Thursday and called Scott to come home and mow the lawn. He did, and he stayed for dinner, promising to come back ‘for the lawn’ the following Thursday.

And so, for the next seven years, without fail, Scott tended to the lawn on Thursdays and stayed for dinner. Sometimes he brought the family, sometimes not. 

Derek knew it wasn’t his place to mow the damn lawn. Besides he’d never get away with it, but his heart tightened at the thought of Melissa’s grief. It was too overwhelmingly public.

 

_Derek gently moved the cart far enough away that Archer couldn’t reach anything. Cubby had a habit of sneaking sugar products into the cart. Scott never noticed, but it was instinct in Derek, though it’d been over a decade since he was put in charge of a small child. And those had been werewolf kids, not human._

_“Here, I got some Fruity Snacks from your dad’s stash.” Derek pulls it out of his jacket pocket, opening it neatly for Archer, who still hasn’t mastered opening without food landing everywhere._

_Archer lets out a happy noise and snatches the gummy treats. Derek smiles at how content the cubby is, his heart swelling. And then he looks up and sees Stiles lost in thought as he looks at a shelf of different cake boxes._

_Derek hadn’t even known Stiles was in town. But that made sense. Scott was getting caught up in his own life now that he and Allison were in the process of moving and getting married and all the other things that would make them solidly a family. Plus Stiles had his own life in the academic arena. But now that he was graduating, he must be coming back._

_Derek watched Stiles smiling broadly at the cupcake boxes. Instead of hiding from an awkward meeting, he kept staring at Stiles, wondering what was making him smile so broadly. Should he go over and greet him, just ask? Was Stiles staying in Beacon Hills?_

_“Stiles!” Archer yells out, having seen him. Derek scowls briefly before Stiles looks up, momentary confusion replaced by a broader smile reserved chiefly for Archer Christopher McCall. Derek only begrudges the kid a little, but if Archer is what makes Stiles happy, Derek is damn glad he has the cubby with him._

_“Stiles is here!” Archer informs everyone, his eyes bright with joy. Derek knows exactly how that kid feels._

_“Yeah I am!” Stiles smiles, his hand reaching out to ruffle Archer’s wavy blond hair, “Hey,” This more subdued greeting is for Derek and he gives Stiles a nod, “Scott here?”_

_Derek wonders if Stiles has even seen Scott since he got home. Scott’s been picking up extra shifts at the station since Allison’s home for summer to watch Archer. They need the extra money for their mortgage._

_“Allison got a flat and he went to change her tire.” Derek explained, feeling awkward since he had been the one Scott called for help, “Asked me to deal with the grocery list and Arch.”_

_A look of disappointment touched Stiles’ face briefly and Derek felt dumb for causing it, “Oh, that’s cool.” Derek doesn’t want him feeling like shit because his best friend asked someone else to do a favor._

_“Can you help us?” He asks instead, holding up his list, “I can’t find Apawe nectar.” He’s pretty sure it’s agava or something but he knows that it’ll make Stiles feel better more than anything else._

_Stiles took the list, grinning because he still knows how to read Scott’s writing, “I think Scott wrote Agave. Don’t worry, I’m an expert when it comes to his scribbles and scrawls.” Derek hides his smile of relief as Archer starts wriggling again. He’ll have to give Cubby another baggie of fruit snacks soon but he only has two left with him._

_“Agave’s over here man.” Stiles bent down and Derek can’t help himself. He’s with a small child, but he’s still leering at the younger man’s ass like some sort of-_

_Oh crap, Stiles caught him. Derek tries not to burn, cursing himself for not looking away in time. Sure enough, Stiles looks mortified as he hands him the syrup. Derek studiously looks at Archer as if needing to inspect him for stains, not wanting to see Stiles look at him in absolute horror/disgust._

_He still doesn’t know if Stiles is back for good._

_“Thanks.” He tells Stiles instead of asking that simple question, dropping the syrup into the cart, “What do you think of the Dodgers this year?”_

_At one point, he lost another fruit baggie to Archer but the kid deserved it for being so well behaved and smiling. Stiles talked to him easily as they wandered the store, at one point he even leaned in to ruffle Archer’s hair again. Derek got a good strong whiff of Stiles without having to inhale and be caught out as a creepy perv with a smelling fetish._

_They made it to the cashier thankfully without him exploding from the tension. Stiles paid first, but stuck around. Derek liked that he never needed to worry about that when all was said and done: Stiles would be there, even when he wasn’t directly asked._

_After exchanging good byes with Cubby, Stiles stood up, his brown eyes looking determined. Sort of like the time he grabbed that bone saw-_

_Derek stopped himself from pondering the rest of that horrific memory._

_“If you’re free tonight, we should watch the Dodgers game…” He kept talking but Derek couldn’t hear him, his mind whirring as he realized that Stiles had just asked him if he wanted to spend time with Stiles. Was it a date?_

_“I-”_

_“Oh Stiles!” A matronly woman barraged over, hugging poor Stiles. Derek chuckled and pulled Archer (who was a little edgy around strangers) up into his arm. He was half-relieved for the pause, it gave him a chance to come up with a more neutral response than “I would love to go.”_

_He tuned back in when the woman said something about Johns Hopkins and Derek realized that Stiles was going to medical school. Damn. Stiles Stilinski was going to be a doctor. Probably an amazing one because Derek knew there was nothing he couldn’t do._

_But, Derek didn’t want Stiles to feel obligated to him. What if this was a date and what did that mean? What if he held Stiles back from his dreams? The kid had a chance at the best medical school in the country after all._

_The woman left and Derek tuned back to Stiles, his heart wrenching a bit at Stiles’ expectant, excited gaze. Probably he thought that they were finally going to be real friends. Sort of like that five-month period in high school when there hadn’t been any monsters around, creating friction._

_But then Scott got Allison pregnant and Stiles left for school. Everything changed. And now, well, Stiles was back, but he wasn’t really back, was he?_

_“I’m on shift tonight.” Technically he wasn’t, but he would ask Scott if they could switch, out of guilt for shafting Stiles, “Sorry.”_

_Derek, with Archer balanced on his side, walked to the Volvo he borrowed from Scott. He still heard Stiles’ mutter of, “Another time, I guess” over the unlock beep._

_Derek already knew that wasn’t likely._

Isaac yawns, “How was full moon for you? Cam was really out of it this time.” 

Derek looks up in surprise. Isaac’s son is mild-mannered after all, especially compared to other four year olds. Namely a Miss Scarlett McCall. He’s already reading chapter books and has a burgeoning map collection. Derek’s convinced Cam is an old soul. Well an old were-soul anyway.

“I thought he usually sleeps through it.”

Isaac shrugged, “He was really agitated the entire time. I nearly called you for backup but I figured that you had your hands full with Scarlett.”

“I did.” Derek said slowly. She’d been a whirling, screaming mess the entire time, weeping and scratching and howling, “It was the storm. Scarlett’s scared of them. She kept asking for…” He broke off

“Cam asked for his mom too.” Isaac said quietly, not looking at Derek, his face very focused on the words of the newspaper.

Derek nodded. Isaac never talked about Cam’s mother. She showed up with Cam one day, said that he was a freak and left without pause. Isaac named his son after his brother, the same one that Isaac never discussed.

Derek wonders if he should offer for Isaac to bring Cam over next full moon. At the same time, he knows he should ask Stiles.

Stiles is determined, after all, to play more of an active role during the full moon, much to Derek’s annoyance.

“How are things going with that woman who works at the hotel?” Derek asked instead, wanting to change the topic.

Isaac scoffed, “She’s just…” He shook his head, “I’ve never met a woman I love as much as my son, Derek. I’ve never met a woman I love as much as Scott loved Allison. Sometimes I doubt that it’ll ever happen to me. I think I got too fucked up for love, thanks to my dad.”

Derek half growled, eyes sharp. There was no need for a formal rebuke past that. Isaac sighed,

“Sorry for the feelings explosion. I’m just frustrated.”

“I get it.”

“Nah, at least you have Stiles.” Isaac sipped his coffee lightly, staring at Derek with a calmness that Derek disliked, “He’s not going anywhere.”

Derek frowns at that, “Hmm.”

Stiles chooses that moment to call and Derek picks up with relief to stave off another Stiles-centric discussion with his gossipy first-deputy,

“Hey Der. I just wanted to make sure you’re home tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, does the hospital need you?” Derek asked with surprise. They both had Wednesday nights off and did family dinners then.

“Uh, no. But I’m doing…this…drinks…thing with a friend. It won’t be more than an hour.” Stiles explained, his voice sounding half strained.

“A drinks thing.” Derek repeated flatly, frowning, “With who?”

There was a pause before Derek heard him say, “Ben. You know, Rory’s school counselor. We hit it off pretty well. He seems like a really great guy, cute, fun and all that.” Stiles is talking too fast and Derek rubs his forehead, staving off the imminent wave of anger.

“That’s great Stiles.” Derek said, not knowing what else to say

“Yeah. Anyway it’s just for an hour, completely casual.” Stiles assures him, “So you’ll be home for babysitting?”

“I’ll be home.” Derek confirms

“Oh, oh, good.” Stiles pauses, “Well, uh, thanks. Bye, I guess.”

“Bye.” Derek hangs up. As he sets the phone back on its hood, he snaps the pen that he’d been holding in two.

“Whoa.” Isaac comments, glancing at Derek’s impassive face, “Did Scarlett color on the dogs again? I thought you guys threw away the markers.”

Derek scowls, “I didn’t realize I had the damn pen in my hand.” He ran a hand through his hair, “It’s nothing. Stiles is going on a date.”

“Oh then it makes sense. You’re jealous.” Isaac remarked

Derek half growled, “I am _not_ jealous,” His face felt hot.

He got up to wash his face in the bathroom, because he was hot and the A/C was on the fritz. No jealousy involved.

“Derek,” Isaac came in, “503 in the Cherry Hills neighborhood, still in progress.” He looks grim and restless. It was well known that these were Isaac’s least favorite calls.

Derek frowned. He also hated domestic abuse calls, “Lets go.”

Isaac nods, one hand on his holster as he follows Derek’s lead.

 

_Derek was fixing Archer’s tie, wondering why the hell Allison had insisted on making a seven year old boy wear a real tie, as Scott paced._

_“What if he doesn’t show up?”_

_“He’ll show up.” Derek said confidentially, “Stiles wouldn’t miss his best friend getting married. Cubby, stay still.” He looked pointedly at Archer, who stopped wiggling around, and then started wriggling again._

_Scott sighed, “If that was true, then why wasn’t he here yesterday at the rehearsal dinner or at my bachelor party? I had to ask you to do that stuff.”_

_“It’s fine, Scott. It’s his first year of being a doctor. I’m sure it’s harder for him get time off because of his patients.” Derek pointed out lightly, “He’ll be here.”_

_Scott nodded, looking at Derek with a half smile, “I meant what I said yesterday, you know. You should stand on my side. Stiles won’t mind standing on Allison’s.”_

_Derek shook his head, knowing that wasn’t true, “I’d rather stand with Allison anyway. That way I can frighten Cubby into silence.” He finished the tie in time to give Archer one such glare._

_Of course, Archer just laughed at the idea. Amused, Derek threw him up in the air before easily catching him again. Archer’s surprised squeal of joy never failed to make him smile._

_“Here, here!” Stiles ran in, his suit a mess, his hair all over the place and looking frantically for Scott. They embraced madly and Derek knew, at that minute, everything had been forgiven. Archer ran over to give Stiles a hug as well, Stiles ruffling his hair._

_“Thanks for coming Doc.” Scott grinned at his best friend, grabbing Archer._

_Derek stood up, unsure of how to say hello to Stiles himself. He settles for waiting, uncomfortable with any other option._

_Stiles let out another broad smile, zeroing in on Scott’s collar to adjust his bow tie, “My boy is getting married.”_

_“I already feel married.” Scott admits, his eyes crinkling with amusement, “I do have the kid part taken care of.” He glances over at where Archer is assaulting the couch with somersaults and Derek is quick to step in as Scott tells him to stop._

_Archer gives Derek a distraction from trying to figure out what to do with Stiles. He plucks the kid off the couch and onto his shoulders, relieved that he doesn’t look quite so statue-like. Plus Archer calms him down._

_He gazes at Stiles who is watching him with an expression that Derek can’t quite catalogue. But it causes his lower stomach to tighten and all sorts of good feelings are stirring about. Stiles turns away first, looking determinedly at Scott’s shirt-front._

_The wedding planner walked in, gabbling about something or other that Derek had already heard. Stiles, however, was taken aback and Derek tries not to flush with embarrassment._

_“Allison and I decided that you and Derek are both best men.” Scott’s explaining it to Stiles while Derek watches him color. However, he doesn’t look upset, just nods with his lips firmly clamped together as he asks about Lydia’s role and Scott explains, unaware of the faint maze of emotions that Stiles is clearly struggling to disguise._

_“We’re both your best men?” Stiles returns to that thread of conversation and Derek feels his stomach clenching again as Stiles looks at him, “That’s fine, I have no problem walking with Derek.”_

_“Don’t worry,” Scott claps a hand on his shoulder as he grins at Derek, “We’re not much for convention, so we aren’t going to make you dance together at the reception or anything.”_

_Derek tamps down a brief flash of feeling Stiles’ shoulder, his hip, swaying with him. Stiles’ smirk isn’t helping as he makes a smart-ass remark to Derek._

_Nodding with his standard control, Derek manages to open his mouth: “It’s good to see you Stiles.”_

_Stiles blinks in surprise, probably at the lack of insult. Derek decides to leave before Stiles goads him in that conversational direction._

_Derek is surprised to feel Stiles’ warm hand on his back briefly, his brown eyes shining with mischief, “Let’s dance anyway. Convention and all that, right?”_

_Derek looks at him, heart half pounding and he forces himself into a normal heartbeat, well aware of the other werewolves around. He can't stop looking at those damn eyes. His memory had dulled their color in Stiles' absence, “Fine.”_

_They’re at the front of the ceremony, Scott’s already walked down and Stiles looks over at Derek, holding his elbow up expectantly._

_Derek is slow to react, but runs a hand through the crook, trying not to touch Stiles or at least not revel in touching Stiles so intimately. However, the harpy of a planner squawks and fusses about until Stiles is very much tucked into Derek, holding his bicep securely._

_Derek keeps his mind focused on changing Archer’s diaper, walking in on Scott and Allison, Isaac throwing up wolfsbane-laced shots at the bachelor party and other unpleasant memories._

_“Mr. Hale,” The uppity woman frowns at him as if he’s a small child, “Please don’t scowl, it’s a wedding and for twenty minutes, I don’t want to see anything more than a smile.”_

_Derek hears Stiles’ laughter through the coughing fit and jostles him lightly. Enough to make him stop giggling, without causing him to let go of Derek’s arm._

_Next to Allison’s empty spot, Derek’s fake smile is still very much plastered on his face. He can see Scott’s mom and Lydia giving him their withering looks and he tries to make it more genuine. However, it isn’t until he catches Stiles wince as Scott shoves an elbow into his rib that Derek really smiles. There’s the happy, amused Stiles that haunts his dreams, after all, who shows up just as the wedding march begins to play._

_Aware of convention, Derek looks at Allison, thinking about Stiles’ laughter. This time when he looks at Stiles, he can’t help but be aware that they’re both staring at each other. The electricity is too much, however, as Allison laughs and kisses Scott. Derek looks down, swallowing hard._

_He hears Stiles laugh, “Hey, hey, time to get married you lovebirds!” and there’s some lighthearted chuckling._

_Derek glances at Stiles throughout the ceremony._

 

Derek returned home early that Wednesday. It’d been an ugly shift. 

Instead of sitting at the island as was typical of most mornings after night shifts, Derek went straight for the overstuffed red couch in his living room, needing to sit there and process.

Puff runs for him, his stupid doggy face wide with glee that Derek’s home. He circles around Derek, yapping as Derek sits on the couch.

He made Isaac go back to the station halfway through when the drunk bastard was trying to provoke a reaction from him, goad him into a punch. Isaac hadn’t been happy about it, but there were seven other people on site anyway and Derek saw this one hitting too close to home for Isaac.

He stared out the window, not looking at the bold brown and green stripes of different trees but the shaking tears of the young wife who sobbed fitfully, saying over and over that she hadn’t meant to drop her husband’s dinner. Old scars lined her arms and the shiner on her eye would linger for some time.

Puff jumps on the couch and Derek pats him absently, not thinking to tell him to get off. Couches are strictly for humans, according to Stiles.

“Hey,” Stiles appeared from the kitchen with-

Derek’s eyes widened and Puff sits up straighter, his tongue lolling out, “Cinnamon rolls?” He wondered how he missed the heady scent of cinnamon-sugary bread dripping with icing. Not to mention the telltale smell of crisp bacon. It didn’t even _smell_ soy or whole wheat.

Stiles nodded, “Sometimes my dad had bad nights and he’d stop at the store for cinnamon rolls and bacon. Gave me a call that you needed the same artery-clogging heart attack of a breakfast this morning.” He frowns at the poodle, snapping at Puff to get on the floor. Desperate for bacon, Puff obeys, his brown eyes never leaving the plate.

“I _knew_ he still has that police blotter.” Derek growled, rubbing his eyes as Stiles set down the plate on the coffee table, along with tea. 

“It was bad. The dad was out of control from grief, I guess. Obviously drunk. They lost their thirteen-year-old son last summer. Lake drowning. Anyway, deadbeat dad beat up his ten year old son and his wife. When he went after their eight-year-old daughter, the ten year old called us. We’re also looking into the thirteen year old’s death.”

He couldn’t get the image of the small boy out of his mind. Rory’s size, really. Derek mistook him for seven or eight. The kid had a mulish expression frozen on his face. His shoulders wouldn’t stop shaking as tears silently fell down his face. The younger sister was clinging to his arm, weeping loudly. Derek couldn’t stop looking at the little girl’s pink flowery shirt. Scarlett had one similar to it.

“One of the nurses called, mentioned that they want me to do a second consult on the little girl.” Stiles said softly, rubbing Derek’s back as Derek took a piece of the cinnamon bun.

Derek sucked in a breath, angling his back for Stiles, “A second consult?" 

“Just double checking the intern’s notes. He’s recommending a surgery for a partially healed break that was never set properly. I’ll deal with it when I go to work in about two hours.” Stiles explained. Derek can hear the anger in his voice at the obvious neglect of the two parents. 

It’s quiet for a few seconds, Stiles occupied with his hand as he rubs Derek’s back in widening circles. Derek himself is lost in a muddle of different thoughts.

He shifts to give Stiles even more access to his back as he eats another piece of bacon.

“You better eat all of this before the kids wake up.” 

“They’ll smell it.”

“I’ll tell them that they’re hallucinating and to eat their cereal.” Stiles’ amused voice is almost in Derek’s ear as his hands work harder to knead Derek’s aching muscles. Derek can’t help but lean into Stiles, needing the warm touch of Stiles’ long fingers as much as someone working out the tension in his back.

“Did you know that Archer mowed the lawn yesterday? Melissa was crying when I came by to get them. Said that her grandbabies have to come back every Tuesday afternoon and stay for dinner. So I guess we don’t have to worry about Tuesday nights now.”

Derek smiles, “I was hoping he might. That was Scott’s thing with his mom. Seems only right Archer should-”

Then he stops, realizing that Stiles is massaging his back and making him breakfast. It’s too domestic for their relationship. Isn’t it?

He pulls away from the warm hands kneading his aching flesh and looks at Stiles. Whether that decision was a terrible decision or a really good decision is debatable. It puts Stiles’ face so damn close to his face.

They could rub noses. He even sees Stiles lean in a bit and Derek is about to do the same when Puff yaps, keening for the forgotten bacon in Derek’s hand. Derek drops it out of surprise, Puff landing on it without wasting a second.

“Oh! Forgot to turn off the oven.” Stiles leapt, making a beeline for the kitchen. Derek can hear his heart beating wildly, or is that Derek’s heart? He can smell the heavy overlay of lust, arousal that Stiles carries with him as easily as a model might do with cologne or some prissy scarf.

He groans, remembering that Stiles has that damn date with _Ben_ tonight. He rubs his hands in his face, picks up his plate and leaves to eat in his room, Puff trailing after him with the determined little wag of a poodle that knows when he’s getting some bacon in his tummy. Derek’s determined to leave Puff outside, but he can’t say no to that stupid face with the tongue lolling out.


	5. March: Stiles Does Mommy & Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles deals with some crazy moms while doing Mommy and Me, then a PTA bake sale. He also shares his perspective behind flashbacks dealing with sick infant Rory and Senior Prom (or, the night Archer was conceived).

“Why am I doing this again?” Stiles asked himself as he watched Isaac wearily help Cam through a cartwheel. He was comforted at least, that Isaac (and maybe even Cam) wanted to be at Mommy and Me Gymnastics as much as Stiles. However, he also knew that this playgroup was often the highlight of Scarlett’s week. Also, he picked scissors when Derek laid down paper. 

“Stiles! Help me across the bawance beam!” Scarlett demanded, one hand on her hip.

“Ba _lance_ beam, princess pie.” Stiles took her hand obligingly, amused by how the gravitas of her hairbun only added to the determined set of her eyes. No one would ever mistake this princess for an easygoing kid.

Even though he was technically a gay guy, he had no idea how to deal with hair. After all, he’d rather shave it off instead of dealing with it. Thankfully, Derek was a hair guy.

Stiles even watched him effortlessly pull up her thick black hair into the classic chiffon with some elastic, pins, and hairspray. Apparently when a guy had sisters, he couldn’t get away from learning some facts about hair-care, or so he claimed.  

Stiles lifted her up on the beam, a bit nervous to let go, even if it was just a foot off the ground, “Stick your arms out, sweetie-tweetie.”

“Watch me.” Scarlett demanded, looking up at him with a Dereky-was he really using Derek as an adjective!?-pout, her brown eyes shining with glee. Stiles couldn’t help but hear Scott’s laughter float through his head,

_“Our girl’s a handful, but the good kind of handful. I think she’ll be a heartbreaker, honestly”_ Stiles keeps his face impassive as the voice of his best friend fades out. 

“Stiles!”

“I’m watching, princess.” Stiles assures her, still hovering close. He smiles broadly as she carefully manages to her way across the beam. Near the end, she hops off with a neat little bow, looking smugly at him. Stiles just wanted to laugh and hug her tightly.

“Cam! Your turn!” Scarlett announces, putting the attention firmly on her best friend. Cam is one of the smaller four-year-olds in the M&M group, with curly white blond hair and big blue eyes that make him look perpetually surprised.

Isaac puts a hand on Cam’s head, smiling exasperatedly at the bossy little girl, “Actually, the group is meeting up.” He nudges Cam that way and Scarlett is quicker to encourage him, grabbing his small hand and yanking him to follow her.

Stiles shakes his head in amusement when Isaac tells him, “Hey, thanks for coming, man. I would’ve taken them myself, but it’s nice to not be the only guy here.”

Stiles shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets, “Well, at least I don’t have to listen to Derek bitch about my jeep. He and Archer are doing some kind of bonding car repair workshop.”

“You still have that piece of crap jeep?”

“You mean the other half of my soul?” Stiles hits Isaac lightly as he watches the kids play with some sort of huge parachute. Scarlett’s face is full of delight and he can’t help smiling himself.

“Oh man, look at Cam, he’s nuts.” Isaac says softly, "I love him." 

The kids are running through the thing as they toss it up and down. Stiles can hear lots of gleeful laughing and Cam is in the middle, just looking up with wonder, waiting until the very last minute to skirt himself to the edge and grab a handful of the expansive rainbow-colored cloth for another round.

“So you did this with Scott, huh?”

“Mostly. It depended on the week.” Isaac explained, “It was harder for Allison to be involved the way Scott was but she lived for this kind of stuff.” He paused, “Next week is Mommy and Me Cupcake Decorating.”

Stiles groaned, “Fine but we’re getting beers afterward.”

“Shit.” Isaac mutters, all of a sudden. His voice is higher, “Play it cool.”

Stiles frowned, “Wha-”

“She's hot.” Isaac explains through the side of his mouth before smiling a little too brightly at a blond woman, “Hi Cheryl! Gymnastics was such a great idea.”

“Oh thank you, Isaac.” She smiled at him before turning to Stiles, “Dr. Stilinski, I’m so happy you’ve stepped in. Scarlett is such a valued member of our M&M group and you know we aren’t sticklers for the Mommy part.”

“No, I gathered that. This is such a wonderful way to keep the kids socializing at this age.” Stiles said politely, smiling. It was the most convincing reason behind why he agreed to go. Derek did have a valid point when it came to Scarlett's lack of social skills.

“Oh I know. Plus we’re delighted to have a _doctor_ as part of our weekly group.” She half breathes it out as if Stiles has a shiny toy that everyone wants. Stiles doubts that Cheryl has even looked once in Isaac’s direction since she started talking.

Stiles half blinks, “Well, sometimes it’ll be the Sheriff so I hope the kids stay out of the liquor cabinets. He’s a bit of a stickler. But Isaac’s a sucker for a cute face if you want someone more lenient.” He nods at Isaac who just sort of manages a half-eager nod.

The woman lets out a loud, almost horsey laugh and smiles again at him, “And you have a sense of humor…”

Another mom joins them, looking panicky, “Dr. Stilinski, do you mind looking at my daughter’s rash? She’s had it on and off for the last two days and since you’re here…”

Stiles gives her a polite smile, annoyed, “That sounds worrisome.”

Apparently that was translated as “Yes, I will look at your child’s rash and diagnose it as something so you save a trip to your pediatrician even though there is a liability issue at hand for me.”

He figured that at least it’d get him away from Cheryl, also giving Isaac the opportunity to ask her to dinner. However, he doubted that happened by the look of Isaac’s resigned face when Stiles returned.

_“Drhstilskai,” Stiles is barely awake after a 32 hour shift. He realizes that he has a half chewed granola bar in his mouth and spits it out, “Dr. Stilinski speaking.”_

_The phone rings again and Stiles realizes that he forgot to pick up. Assuming it’s the hospital, Stiles puts his cell to his ear, “Go away,”_

_“Stiles, it’s Derek.”_

_Stiles sat up, his blood going cold as he imagined the worst, “Is my dad okay?”_

_“What, no, he’s fine,” A little whimper in the background distracts Derek, “I need help. Rory’s sick.”_

_“Who’s Rory?”_

_There’s a pause and Derek says slowly, “Scott’s daughter? He sends you pictures of her every other day?”_

_Stiles realizes that he means Baby Aurora, “I didn’t realize she had a nickname. Rory. That’s cute.” Derek must be babysitting._

_“Yeah. She’s cute even when she’s sick.”_

_“She’s uh, what, seven months now?” Stiles yawned, standing up to try and find some food. He scratched his stomach, scowling as he stared at his rumpled jeans, realizing he forgot to change into pajamas. Being a doctor definitely sucked the life out of him._

_“She’s fourteen months, Stiles.” Derek says slowly and his voice sounds a little different, almost strained. In the pause, Stiles can hear him asking why he hasn’t come home yet to meet her._

_He glances at the bright pink baby announcement on his refrigerator and realizes that Derek is right about her age, “I missed her birthday.” He hasn’t been home in over two years, not since Scott’s wedding._

_“Your dad came with a present from the both of you.” Derek explained, “It was a toddler size hotdog costume. Scott loved it, Allison hated it.”_

_Stiles sighed, recalling a picture Scott had sent of Rory in the damn costume, he’d barely glanced at it. “Ugh, okay. What’s Rory’s temperature?”_

_“One hundred point six. It’s up point three from four hours ago.”_

_Stiles nods, “That’s a pretty low-grade fever. She’s on lots of fluids right?”_

_“Plenty of it. Clear soup, apple juice, all that.”_

_“Have you given her a fever reducer or any other medicine?”_

_“No, should I?” He half growls before apologizing, “I’m sorry, I just don’t know what to do with sick humans.”_

_Stiles sighs, “Hold on a sec. Lemme ask some more questions.” He finds Pop Tarts and grins, sure that he’d been out, “Does she have any difficulty breathing or rashes or weirdly colored bumps anywhere?”_

_“No, not at all. She has a stomachache though. Can’t hold anything down and doesn’t want the chicken and noodles in her soup or even the crackers. She loves crackers, Stiles.”_

_Stiles nods, taking a bite out of his late-night breakfast, “Congratulations. You have the run-of-the-mill toddler with stomach flu. Keep on her with fluids and don’t make her eat if she doesn’t want to eat. The virus will run its course. Two, three days tops.”_

_“What if she keeps refusing food?”_

_Stiles pauses in thought, “Pediasure’s great for liquid nutrients. But really, I wouldn’t worry about it. Twelve hours from now, she’ll be demanding crackers.”_

_“No fever reducers?”_

_“Oh no, these things don’t work with the little people most of the time anyway.” Stiles sighs, rubbing his head, “Feel better, man?”_

_“A little,” Derek admits ruefully, “At least now I can call Scott and assure him that the baby’s just fine with your seal of approval.”_

_Stiles smiles, “I miss Scott.”_

_“He misses you too.” Derek tells Stiles softly after a long pause, “We…all do.”_

_“Me too.” Stiles sighs, knowing better than to promise a trip home when he can’t even fathom a vacation time in his endless schedule, “How are they? The new house? Allison’s job? Archer? God, I miss Archer.”_

_“Archer’s good…He’s doing Little League baseball and I’m coaching. Well I’m actually coaching most of the department’s kids. Scott and Isaac are my assistant coaches, along with two other guys. Allison and this other mom are in a Snack Mom war.”_

_Stiles chuckles, his heart tugging at the idyllic scene. He sits down at the kitchen table, “What’s the team called?”_

_“Sons of Anarchy. There was a vote.” Derek sighed, “I thought it’d be like The Comets or something.”_

_Stiles laughs, “That’s awesome, considering their parents’ actual occupation.”_

_“I’m surprised at the wit, given that they’re nine to ten year olds.” Derek admits with a chuckle that Stiles is surprised to hear. Derek isn’t one for a sideways chuckle or laugh._

_“I think I saw some videos of Archer at bat. He’s got good form.”_

_“The ones your dad takes? Sheriff’s planning to do some kind of movie with it, he’s super excited about it. Allison’s helping him but he won’t let us see anything.”_

_Stiles smiles, “Dad hangs out with you guys?”_

_They don’t really talk about that when he calls. Come to think of it, Stiles knows he owes his dad a call…or three._

_Derek’s voice cuts through, as if realizing the same thing, “You should call him, Stiles. Thanks for helping me with Rory. I’m going to go back to babysitting duty.”_

_“Yeah, okay.” Stiles says, half stuttering, “Uh, bye.”_

_Derek hangs up without a word, Stiles just staring at his phone blankly before he scrolls down and presses Call._

_Holding the phone to his ear, it doesn’t even ring once when John Stilinski picks up, horse: “Whassit? Are you okay?”_

_Stiles grins, “Hi Dad. I love you.”_

Stiles gives thanks that Scott’s mother took care of the lemon bars that he completely spaced on agreeing to contribute after Mrs. Greenberg mentioned it. But on the kitchen island, there they were: three huge trays with platters of lemon bars were already neatly wrapped up and a small folded note next to it. 

Stiles picked it up, curious:

 _“Truth? I got these from the Costco two towns over. Scott would’ve made the first batch and reached the same conclusion, trust me._ ”

Stiles laughed at the admission, able to see that playing out. For all of Scott’s domestic dad moments, he was still Scott McCall. Not quite perfect, but pretty close.

“Lemon bars?” Derek walks in, having smelled them

“Grandma saved the day.” Stiles smiles at him, “For the bake sale at two o’clock? They’re raising money for uniforms.”

“Baseball, yeah Archer told me.” Derek nods thoughtfully and smiles, the sort of fond smile that Stiles doesn’t remember. It makes him warm in the right places though, “I remember when he was just starting out. His head was too small for the helmet and glove.”

Stiles frowns and looks away, “That’s cute.” He sighs, “Let’s uh, deal with this lemon bar stuff. Isaac has Scarlett but we’ll take Rory with us and Archer’s doing some selling there.”

Derek nods, “Fun. We’ll get real brownies. Not the weird fig-banana ones.”

“Hey, Ben liked that stuff.” Stiles points out, “He gave me an empty Tupperware the next day.”

He’s looking for the keys but he glances over to see Derek’s frown, “Okay, _fine_ , we’ll get real sweets. But we’re hiding them in the way, way back! And you have to let me try this tomato chocolate cake recipe I read about.”

Derek glances at him and his expression smooths over, “That’s good. Nice to know that you’re getting on well with… _Ben_.” He says it with the same amount of loathing Scarlett lashes out when voicing her thoughts on Stiles' healthier dishes like broccoli-leek mash.

“I guess? It was just a one-off and-” Stiles shook his head, “I don’t know what I was thinking. Our parenting thing is too…new. We’re barely a month in. So we’re…just friends.”

“We’re just friends?” Derek repeats. Stiles isn’t sure if that’s a question, “Or you and Ben are just friends?”

“Yes to both because they’re both true?” Stiles states, confused and shakes his head, “Don’t worry about it man. I’m not abandoning this ship. It wouldn’t be fair to the kids.”

Derek nods, “Yeah, true.”

“Hey, we going?” Archer jumps from the midway level of the stairs, grinning, “Can I have a lemon bar?”

“No, they’re full of sugar and carbohydrates. Go get Rory and we’ll leave.” Stiles tells him, glancing at his watch, “Derek, make sure you take all the lemon bars.”

“Rory wants to bring Panda.” Derek tells him, looking up at the ceiling toward where Rory’s room is and Stiles groans. Taking a tiny puffy poodle is one thing, but Panda is humongous and easily sheds the most of all five dogs.

“Fine, but you’re taking him and I’ll take the lemon bars and Archer.” Stiles settles for saying, “I don’t want dog hair in my jeep.”

“That jeep is two days from breaking down and then we’ll convert you to minivans.” Derek assures him and Stiles scowls at Derek’s laugh.

The bake sale itself is much larger than Stiles imagined. A bunch of different tables are set up on the football field and Stiles realizes that _all_ the different athletic organizations need money for something. For baseball, it’s uniforms. For lacrosse, it’s new equipment. Swimming wants money for a field trip and there are twenty other sports organizations being represented on the field.

Stiles ended up stuck at the baseball table with a few other PTA moms bored out of his mind while Derek and Rory are exiled to a patch of grass where Panda won’t scare any helicopter parents. Archer and his friends are holding signs over on the main road to try and entice people to park (which is actually pretty successful) but Stiles wants Derek to go and make sure he’s sunscreening himself fairly soon. Skin cancer rates are on the rise after all.

The booth is surprisingly popular, most people buying a lemon bar or two but Stiles has a feeling it’s more out of pity for Archer’s status as an orphan. It makes his blood boil, even if he knows that the intentions are good. Some of them hang around, prying (asking?) about how the kids are doing, how he’s doing as a new parent. Thankfully though, it’s close to closing up and the baseball team reached their goal. Any extra money will probably be reallocated for cross-country according to a very bossy lady that reminds Stiles vaguely of Lydia by tone.

“He’s so cute, isn’t he?” Stiles catches wind of a conversation nearby, intrigued even when he realizes that it’s a bunch of PTA moms gathered together. Stiles recognizes them by their purses that have everything, some type of jewelry either made by their child or with their child’s name on it, jock-type hairbuns and pastel zip-up jackets. The Starbucks containers seem optional.

“I know, and that _ass_. You could bounce a quarter off it.” Another mom makes some sort of growly noise. Stiles is now curious to know the object of their interest. He knows that the ‘hot’ dad is considered to be someone named Dan Sargeant (thanks to Scott having complained about all the moms mooning over Dan) but Stiles hasn’t met him yet. 

“Dana Alcott told me that he’s got a tattoo on his back. Apparently she had to give him an old shirt because he spilled some chili on it or something. It’s like these three spirals that join together. Isn’t that just wild?”

Stiles stiffens, recognizing the description.

“I’d love to lick that. Especially with his ice cream.” Several moms sighs before one added, “God, he looks like he’d just keep going all night.” They all make soft noises that Stiles is not exactly on board with.

After all, they’re talking lewdly about Derek. _Derek_ sitting on the grassy hill besides their six year old, wearing matching plastic dolphin rings. Rory had insisted on getting the cupcake just for the ring on top, making Derek eat her cupcake in addition to his.

Right now though, he’s licking an ice cream cone languidly, smiling as Rory plays with Panda who can’t keep his eyes off the ice cream, tongue lolling. So okay, Stiles can sort of understand where the inspiration comes to mind but he is _not on board_.

“Ooh, look at Dan Sargeant. He looks like he’s been working out.”

“I know! Have you seen him mow the lawn?”

The moms are now fairly focused on their new target, much to Stiles’ relief. However, he can’t stop staring (granted it's peripherally, but it's still staring) at Derek licking his chocolate ice cream. Derek pauses mid-lick and frowns, as if sensing an inappropriate pervert lusting over his face. Stiles freezes, realizing that he’s half fantasizing about Derek and his erection is close to making a public greeting.

“Mr. McCall?” A woman walks up to him, smiling nervously. Thank god the mention of his best friend brought him out of the gutter and renders his dick fully flaccid.

“Scott’s-” Stiles broke off, realizing that he had half-forgotten that Scott _died_. He swallowed, feeling a bit clammy, “Uh, sorry I’m Dr. Stilinski, Archer’s guardian. His dad, Scott McCall, died fairly recently.”

She pales, “I’m so sorry, of course I kew that. I just wasn’t thinking.”

“Me too.” Stiles smiles sadly, “How can I help?”

She takes a breath and manages a nervous smile, “I’m Archer’s math teacher, Mrs. O’Sullivan.”

“Right.” Stiles smiles nervously, rubbing his hand up and down his arm, “How bad is it?”

“He got a 35 percent on the midterm. That’s going to bring his overall grade down at least one letter.” She explained honestly, “I strongly recommend getting him a tutor or just working more with Archer one-on-one when it comes to his math homework. I’ve tried pairing him with different student tutors during his study period but he gets very belligerent and sort of shuts down to any kind of learning.”

“He’s a smart kid right?”

She nods furiously, two high spots of pink on her cheek, “Of course! He’s sharp and prior to this tragic event, he was passing math and at least he understood most of the concepts. Right now, I think he’s lost because he has trouble focusing in class. Working with someone one-on-one will be great to sort of help reinforce the things he should learn from class. Can I ask-is he doing any kind of counseling?”

Stiles hesitates, “His other guardian, and I talk about it a lot. We don’t want to push him into anything.”

She nods, “Of course. But might I recommend group therapy? Archer could have trouble articulating his feelings because they’re so…” She paused, lost, but Stiles understands, “And, uh, he might need to be around other kids his age that are dealing with loss themselves.” She hesitates before pulling out a brochure, sliding it over to him.

Stiles nods slowly, taking the brochure and reading the copy, “That sounds like a really good idea, actually.” He glances over to Derek who has regrettably finished his obscene performance of licking ice cream. Stiles still has the memory in his mind, filed away for a private Saturday performance featuring his right hand, “I’ll tell Archer’s other guardian about it too.”

“Anything I can do to help.” She smiles at him before glancing over at the baked goods with some longing.

“Oh hey, take one. On me.” Stiles hands her one of the remaining five lemon bars, smiling. She looks at him in surprise and accepts it, surprised but happy, “Thank you!”

 

_Stiles double-checked his white bow tie in the mirror, feeling nervous. Of course, there was no reason he should be nervous. He didn’t have a date-date but he was going with Derek, who insisted after learning that Isaac asked Cora._

_It made sense in theory since he was the only one that didn’t have a date. Everyone else had paired off into Scott-and-Allison, Lydia-and-Jackson, Isaac-and-Cora, Boyd-and-shy-giggly-girl, left him single. And so, he was the logical choice for Derek to demand for the chance to glower at Cora while she danced with Isaac (supposedly just friends)._

_But Derek asked politely (though it was fairly clear he wasn’t taking no for an answer) and Stiles said that was fine in a fashion much cooler than he ever thought he could accomplish._

_“Stiles! Your date is here!” His dad calls from the first floor and Stiles lets out a deep breath before walking down in white pants, black button-down and jaunty white bow-tie. His hair was spiked up with some gel and he wore his dad’s aftershave, which was way more citrusy than Stiles thought._

_“Not a date!” Stiles yells back, aware of his dad’s amusement that he’s going with Derek Hale. He even asked if he should have a talk with Derek to which Stiles groaned in mortification._

_“Looking sharp son,” The sheriff grins, “Let me get some pictures of you.”_

_Stiles groans, “Dad, no. We’re going to Scott’s next and Melissa will take the pictures. She’ll send you the good ones.” He grins and hugs his dad tightly out of nowhere. John lets out a surprised noise as he claps his son on the back, looking at Stiles quizzically._

_“Is that the organic aftershave crap my department bought as a joke gift?” He holds up Stiles’ white blazer, his eyes twinkling with amusement, “Smells good on you, son.”_

_“Thought I’d borrow some, just in case.” Stiles explained awkwardly, not entirely comfortable with the lingering smell of Lipton, and takes the jacket. He’s still not used to shaving and it stung, but it helped him feel a little more…prepared for the dance._

_“Here.” The sheriff holds out a packet of condoms, “I want you to be prepared. That’s supposed to be lucky aftershave.”_

_Stiles groans, stuffing them in his back pocket, “Lets pretend this exchange never happened. Bye Dad.”_

_“Stiles-”_

_He doesn’t waste a second in yanking the door open, relieved to leave before his father tried to start any kind of formal safe sex conversation. The ones he had at ten and thirteen were awkward enough and they hadn’t even gone through the “safe sex with a boy conversation,” but Google has Stiles covered._

_There’s Derek leaning against his Toyota, wearing standard dress pants that go nicely with a crisp white button-down. He’s left the top buttons off and there’s no tie in sight, but the casual-don’t-give-a-damn-style works for him even though Stiles knows that Lydia will complain when they do pictures_

_Stiles briefly wishes he still had the Camaro, but the Toyota accommodates most of Derek’s pack and Stiles can usually fit the rest in his trusty baby blue Jeep._

_“Hey, we’re taking my car.” Stiles yells, and Derek stands up straighter scowling._

_“Like hell, I’ve already got Isaac and Cora and I know you’re picking up Scott and Allison.”_

_“Allison’s taking Scott so they can have car sex afterwards since he couldn’t get a hotel room. We’re just stopping for pictures and stuff.” Stiles pauses halfway down his driveway to give Derek a perverted leer, wanting to see him look a bit discomfited (which rarely worked, but he never really stopped trying) “Looks like I’ve landed prom king material.”_

_Derek glares at him as if restraining himself from rolling his eyes. He opens the front door for him but walks over to his side without waiting for Stiles to climb in, “We’re taking my car.”_

_“Alright man.” Stiles sighs and tugs his white suit-jacket on as he gets in._

_Isaac is already in the backseat and wrinkles his nose, “Stiles, you smell different.”_

_“My dad’s aftershave.” Stiles explains as he puts on his seatbelt, “It’s organic or something.”_

_“Ooh, looking to get lucky with my brother? I’ve heard he’s hot stuff.” Cora half-teases and Isaac joined her laughter. They’ve buckled in, each next to a window with a broad expanse of middle in between as if they’re a couple going to a middle school dance for the first time instead of senior prom._

_Stiles doesn’t say anything but his face is flushed. The truth is that he hasn’t entirely ruled out a desire to get laid on prom night. It’s practically part of growing up as an American teenager, after all. Derek ignores it too, starting the car._

_“I may have heard a rumor that Danny’s going stag.” Isaac adds casually from the backseat_

_Stiles let out a noncommittal noise. His interest in men became common knowledge to the Pack after they ended up in a male strip club, trying to find Deucalion. Stiles really resented their heightened sense of smell but at the same time he was flattered to score the digits of a cute dark-haired guy that he approached to ask whether he’d seen a blind guy. Of course, Stiles never called him but it was nice all the same._

_“Uh, so do you think Lydia and Jackson will get the Prom crowns?” He asks instead, wanting to talk about something he didn’t have any investment in. Unfortunately, no one else in the car cared._

_Thankfully, getting to Scott’s was short (though definitely not sweet). Stiles nearly threw himself out of the car. The tension was too much._

_He saw Scott smiling as he slipped Allison’s purple corsage on her wrist. They had a lot of shit thrown against them but there was something almost…hopeful about their brief reconnection after two months of little contact. As if everything in the world could have a happy ending._

_He certainly hadn’t seen Scott smile as broadly as he was now, drinking in Allison’s elegant profile. Stiles couldn’t help but melt._

_“They’re stupid cute.” Isaac agrees with Stiles’ unspoken sentence, “Sorry about teasing you, man. Cora brings it out in me,”_

_Stiles nods, not taking his eyes off Scott and Allison smiling at each other, “I want that tonight, you know? Dance with someone I love…I really thought it’d happen by now.”_

_“You’ll find it. You’re one of the best guys I know, Stiles.”_

_Stiles lets out a bark of laughter, “I do have a pretty hot date, thanks to you.”_

_Isaac has a funny look on his face, sort of squinting his eyes, “I’d go for it."_

_“Go for what?”_

_He kicks a rock. Derek took Cora inside to use the bathroom since she wanted to double-check her hair. Probably they can’t hear because Isaac keeps his voice soft, barely above a whisper._

_“You’re eighteen Stiles, about to graduate and both of you need to get some.”_

_Stiles flush deepens and he’s sure he looks like a fucking tomato, “Shut up.” He punches Isaac half-heartedly._

_“Lets go in and do some pictures.” Isaac grins like a jackass, “And here.” He hands Stiles a condom foil, “Just in case, man.”_

_Stiles scowled, stuffing the condom in his back pocket, with the other two. He could give them to Scott if nothing else._

_“Oh good, now we can do pictures! Stiles, let me fix your tie.” Melissa insists, looking teary, “Oh baby, you look so grown up!”_

_Stiles is about to protest, but Melissa’s already zeroed in on his white bow-tie, smiling at him, “This tie is very you.”_

_“Lydia picked it out.” Stiles admitted sheepishly, “I’m pretty sure Derek blew her off.”_

_“Oh you boys look fine together. Just let me pin on these matching boutonnières.” She holds up a white flowery thing, wrapped in black ribbon “Courtesy of Lydia, I should add.”_

_Stiles chuckles, “Derek isn’t wearing a jacket.”_

_“Lydia dropped off a very nice suit vest that I convinced Derek to wear.” Melissa looks up from where she was pinning Stiles to grin at someone past him, “There he is! You look wonderful Derek, and that tie! Just your color.”_

_Stiles turns, and sees that Derek is no longer wearing just the bare minimum. The suit vest is gunmetal, a matching boutonniere pinned securely to the fake breast pocket, and he’s put on a sleek black tie. The stubble on his chin, however, keeps his feral and brooding personality evident. That way strangers at the prom know that he shouldn’t be mistaken for a cuddly human._

_Derek’s brows are set so low, Stiles can barely see more than a glint of his green eyes, “Lets just take the pictures."_

_Stiles nods jerkily, caught up in his own appreciation of Derek, “Yeah, dude, of course.”_

_As they leave, Scott pulls him aside, “Hey man, thought you might want one of these.”_

_Stiles scowls, slipping the foil into his “condom pocket” (as he’s now starting to think of it). Where is everyone getting these condoms and why does everyone assume he’s getting lucky when he’s going on a date with a guy that barely tolerates his ass?_

_“I hope you have some too, man.” Stiles decides to assume that Scott thinks he’ll be lucky enough to find a pretty person at the dance._

_“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it.” Scott claps him on the shoulder, “I can’t believe it’s prom man. Prom!”_

_“No need to yell it.” Stiles smiles, “Epic times ahead.”_

_Taking pictures is an awkward affair. Stiles stands next to Derek. From time to time, they touch lightly, brushing accidentally or in an excuse to look more ‘together’ for the picture._

_“Oh I need one of you two!” Melissa insists, zeroing in on Stiles and Scott as she wraps up, “Oh it feels just like yesterday that you two would play GI Joe in the sandbox!” She’s half weeping and Stiles feels a weird twist of awkward and almost uncomfortable as a surge of emotion for his own mom comes crashing to the surface._

_“That was a while.” Stiles says casually, slinging his arm around Scott with a grin as he tries not to think about how he’s going to be a good twelve hours drive from Scott in a matter of months._

_“Yeah.” Scott beams as well. The flash goes off. Before she can get another picture in, Scott is quick to usher Stiles out of the house, before opening the door to his mom’s car for Allison. Allison laughs and kisses Scott on the cheek as Stiles climbs back into Derek’s car._

_He zones that out, wondering what his mom would think of him at his own prom. Would she have fussed over his tie like Melissa and insisted on too many pictures? Would she have given him a condom and safe-sex speech? Would she have laughed at his attempt to use aftershave or bought him his own aftershave? Would she like Derek?_

_“Hey, you okay?” Derek asks. They’re in front of the high school and Stiles is very aware that there are fucking tears on his cheeks. He wipes them away._

_“Just sad that my mom couldn’t be here to see me go to prom.” Stiles admitted stiffly, “It just shot up out of nowhere. I-I didn’t realize I was crying.”_

_Isaac and Cora have left and Stiles can feel Derek looking at him, but he continues to stare straight ahead._

_“My mom didn’t see my prom either.” Derek admits quietly, “Laura made me go with her, I got sick off the spiked punch and she laughed at me until I puked on her.”_

_Stiles winces, but when he looks over at Derek’s impassive face, he manages a smile, “Thanks for sharing. Now I know not to take the punch.”_

_“As long as you don’t puke on me and my sister has a good time, it’ll be the best prom I’ve attended.” Derek informs him_

_“I’ve always preferred low standards,” Stiles manages a smile, feeling like he can get out of the car now, “Thanks Derek.”_

_“Hey, mind holding my keys? I don’t have any real pockets, thanks to that…Lydia”_

_“I am your date.” Stiles admits, amused by Derek’s inability to characterize Lydia’s Lydia-ness. He palms the keys before he puts them in his inside jacket pocket, “Wallet too?”_

_“If you don’t mind,” Derek pulls it from the glove box, handing it to Stiles who puts it on the other inside pocket of his jacket._

_“Sweet.” Stiles smiles, “I expect some dancing.”_

_“I heard Danny’s free.”_

_Stiles shoves Derek as they get out of the car and Derek shoves him back, instinctively grabbing his arm as Stiles nearly topples to the ground, setting him to rights._

_Coach Finstock gives Derek the eye as Stiles hands over the tickets, “How old is your date, Stilinski?"_

_“Forty-eight.” Stiles announces without hesitation and Derek scowls. However, twenty-five doesn’t exactly sound great either._

_“Stiles! Hey Miguel, como esta?” Danny smiles behind them, walking up with Jackson._

_“Miguel?” Jackson asks, looking at Danny in confusion._

_“Yeah, this is Miguel, Stiles’ cousin. He has bad nosebleeds and stuff. You clean up really well though. Bueno.” Danny’s look of admiration for Derek hasn’t waned in two years, that’s for sure._

_Derek half glares at him, not saying anything, but he does lean half an inch closer to Stiles._

_“Stilinski, you brought your cousin? Even I thought you had more game than that.” Coach cackles as he lets them in with Danny while Jackson waits for Lydia, who is running fashionably late._

_Derek half growls as Danny leaves to say hello to someone else. The band is already playing songs and Stiles looks over at Derek, smiling, “You better dance with me or I’m telling Coach that you’re a pedophile.”_

_Derek scowls but complies. They’re all fast songs with little contact and Stiles is amused by Derek’s awkward and clumsy dancing, though not for long._

_Stiles can feel himself getting hot and overwhelmingly aroused, watching Derek’s surprisingly loose hips bucking out of rhythm and reveling in the quick-accidental?-touches of Derek’s hands slipping on his neck and waist feel electric. Stiles is touching him too, his heart pounding at the near naughtiness of almost touching Derek. Then all of a sudden, they’re dancing in a circle of people. Scott’s whooping as he tears off his tie and whips it around as he does an air guitar solo, Allison-bless her-is laughing with a fond look in her eye for Scott._

_Stiles leans in to Derek’s ear, “You better thank Scott later for being the crappiest dancer here, no one’s looking at us.”_

_Derek laughs, his honest laugh, rarely heard and their eyes meet in a mutual flash of appreciation. Stiles feels himself growing giddy._

_“Drink?” Derek half demands_

_Stiles smiles, “Uh, yeah. Not punch, man.”_

_“No.” Derek walks off and Jackson strolls by, with a smirk on his face._

_“You’re finally going cash in that V-card, huh Stilinski?"_

_“Fuck off Jackson, you don’t know anything.” Stiles says, the packets of condoms burning a hole in his back pocket, “And don’t think about giving me a condom, I’m set.”_

_Jackson smirks, “Don’t need to. Lydia picked up a box and lube. She had me put it in Derek’s glove box for when you guys stop making googly eyes and start mashing gen-”_

_“Don’t finish that sentence.” Stiles groans._

_“I was pretty proud of the multiple alliteration.”_

_“A-plus for effort.” Stiles deadpans, trying to quirk an eyebrow like Derek only to fail though he does have a pretty good scowl._

_“Seal the deal, Stilinski.” Jackson informs him, “If McCall can, so can you.”_

_He claps his hand on Stiles’ shoulder before joining the mass of friends in the circle, laughing and dancing. Stiles is all too relieved when he spots Derek sort of lurking near the edge of the dance floor and walks over, grinning._

_“Isaac’s touching her.” Derek lets out a growl. From the fact that Isaac’s moved half a foot from Cora (and she’s glaring at Derek), Stiles is pretty sure he heard the warning. Stiles laughs, amused as he takes his drink from Derek._

_“Derek?” An astonished voice calls out and Stiles turns around to see Miss Blake staring at them. They both stand up a little straighter,_

_“Ms. Blake! Derek just wanted to be here to watch his sister. We aren’t actually dating. I don’t want to sex him up or anything. Oh god, I’m still talking.” Stiles forces himself away from the incredibly awkward moment by joining everyone on the floor and dancing up a frenzy, absolutely not looking at Derek and the woman he briefly dated have an awkward conversation surrounded by hormonal teenagers like himself._

_At one point, he gets a flask and manages a pretty good sip even though it burns his throat. Someone else hands him a cup of sweet-smelling punch that has definitely been spiked with strong stuff. Oh and there’s another cup. Wait, how many cups did he drink?_

_All of a sudden, there’s Derek supporting him, warning him not to throw up. Stiles feels Derek’s hands all over him, looking for something. Something about keys._

_“Just take off my clothes.” Stiles smiles at Derek, thinking he’s beautiful and lunges over, “Danny…” Something about Danny. Stiles couldn’t remember how to articulate it but he was fucking glad he never danced with Danny, “Fucking Danny, D-d-d,” Ugh, that patch of unstubbled skin on his neck looked amazing. Stiles wanted to lay claim to it, declare it Property of Stiles Stilinski, “So pretty.”_

_Derek’s making a strangled noise, “I don’t think you’ll be using these condoms tonight, Stiles. We’ll get you home and in bed.” He sounds harsh and Stiles nearly recoils, unable to focus on Derek’s words, his head pounding and everything has gone rather swirled._

_In the middle of the night, he wakes up to use the toilet and returns to bed, grateful to see that someone’s poured him a water and left out two Advils. Damn, he wished he remembered more of senior prom._

Stiles let out a sigh as he rubs his neck. He misses massage trains with the on-duty nurses in Seattle. It'd been a long shift from the beginning when he had been planning just two back to back appendectomies. However, a teenager with a nasty snakebite and a three year old that wouldn't stop coughing up blood proved that hope wrong. Plus one of the kids had a bad reaction to anesthesia which had been scary as fuck since they almost didn't catch it. _  
_

Maybe if Derek’s awake, Stiles can ask for a massage. After all, he gave Derek one.

Glancing around, Stiles sees that the foyer is empty, except for one of the wolfhounds (Stiles still can’t tell them apart) sprawled out, surrounded by Jenga pieces and small farm animal figurines. The girls must’ve been playing before and Derek probably swept them up to bed without bothering to clean up. Stiles knew he didn’t like making the kids do chores but it drove him crazy. 

Stiles sighed, too tired to attempt sorting out the different pieces to put away. There were at least three different games here. Derek would do it in the morning and Stiles would withhold coffee until he agreed to some sort of written chore list with the girls. 

Stiles yawned again, seeing other big doggy lumps spread out, asleep in the kitchen. Panda, the furriest and drooliest of them all, was probably on Rory’s bed. Puff, Stiles long suspected, slept curled up at the foot of Derek’s bed though Derek denied this fact. 

They were all fast asleep and Stiles walked upstairs, yawning as he tugged off his jacket. Of course, he didn’t go straight to bed these days. No, he peeked into doors and stared at the sleeping children like they were unicorns or something.

Archer was missing from his bed and Stiles assumed that Derek gave him permission to sleep over at Joey’s or something. Usually Derek was good about informing that kind of thing by Stiles but it must’ve slipped his mind.

He frowned when he noted that Rory was not in her bed either. Nor was Panda in the room. Stiles walked quicker to Scarlett’s room, his heart beating wildly: _no, no, no_.

Her bed was absent of her and Stiles ran to Derek’s door, imagining-

He was so glad he hadn’t blurted out anything before walking right into his bedroom. His heart nearly stopped as he took in the image of the kids fast asleep with Derek.

Panda was on the floor and opened his eyes only to close them again as Puff wagged his tail and gave Stiles a doggy smile. Stiles was convinced that poodle never slept.

In the spacious bed, there was Derek in the middle and three McCalls sprawled around him. Scarlett was pretty much draped on his torso, her hair still damp from the bath. Rory was on Derek’s other side, asleep on his arm and drooling quite a bit on the sleeve of his henley shirt. Archer was a little removed from the cuddle pile, but Scarlett’s splayed arm is on top of his chest. He had a little smile in his sleep.

The cute was too much, Stiles couldn’t help taking pictures. He smiled, sending without thinking as he clicks on recipients.

But then he frowns, noticing that his phone is blinking that Scott did not get the message. All of a sudden, it dawns on him: Scott is dead. His phone doesn’t work because it got fried in the crash and Stiles has somehow sort of…forgotten?

His throat feels dry and his hands are shaking as he stares down at his phone. Derek shakes himself awake up with a frown, seeing Stiles. He manages to slide out of the puppy pile of McCalls, eying Stiles worriedly, “Come on, your heart rate is out of control and I don’t want you waking them up.”

He shoves Stiles out of his room, into the other bedroom across the hall. Stiles lets out an uneasy sigh, sitting down on his perfectly made bed. 

“I just tried to text Scott. I’ve done it before but I always catch myself before I press send. But this time I didn’t and…” Stiles sighed, staring at his phone screen, “He can’t see my picture because he’s dead.”

Derek is swift to wraps himself around Stiles and Stiles feels himself lose it as he sobs hard, his hands fisting Derek’s shirt as he clings to an unyielding shoulder, flat-out sobbing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!
> 
> I figured out that this story is actually 20 chapters. Everything's been planned out and outlined in decent enough detail. I'm pretty good about remembering to post and it'll still be on a weekly basis.
> 
> Hopefully you guys hang in there. The feedback's been awesome. Over time, the flashbacks are going to peter off while more of the present-day story gets told. Let me know what you think about the flashbacks.


	6. Dealing with Adolescent Drama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Archer resents how Derek treats him. Drama full steam ahead.

Derek takes a sip of his coffee again, frowning as he surveys the crowd of forty or so kids staring at him on the stage of the school’s small theatre. Isaac gives him the thumbs up, confirming that all 32 of the teenagers that the department caught at the Eagle Hills party, are present and accounted for. The other eight or so students are genuinely interested in helping build sets for the musical.

Well, except for one technicality. Archer claimed he wanted to help the school out and support the arts. Derek didn’t buy it but he trusted that Archer had good intentions.

“Okay, you are all here today to provide a service to the Beacon Hills community by building the sets for the upcoming musical that the Beacon Hills High School is producing. Some of you will have forms that you need filled out at the end of your community service detail. Come find me or my deputy, Isaac Lahey afterwards. If you leave without doing that, we expect you to do _twice_ the hours of service assigned.” He gave them all a strong glare for effect and Archer rolled his eyes, unimpressed by Derek's sheriff's badge which glints from the waistband of his jeans.

Derek picks up the list of names that the kids scribbled down when they ‘signed in’ that morning, scanning it, “I’ll be dividing you into groups of eight. Each group has an equal amount of manual labor. If you are one of the volunteers here, thank you for donating your effort and time. Let Isaac know what you’d like to help with.” Derek nods toward Isaac who waves awkwardly.

One hand shoots up and Derek eyes the young girl who looks particularly surly.

“Yes?” 

“I just had some surgery done and my doctor doesn’t want me doing any kind of lifting, climbing or constructing. I’m also supposed to stay away from paint fumes.” She crosses her arms as her smirk broadens, as if daring Derek to go ahead and assign her a detail.

Derek gives her a big old fake smile, thinking of how Stiles looks whenever he catches Scarlett sneaking vegetables to the dogs, “Fantastic. Isaac, hand her a scraper. Thank you for volunteering to scrape _all the gum_ off the bottoms of the chairs, armrests and floor of this theater.” He surveys the crowd, “Anyone else have a concern they’d like to share?” 

No one so much as gasps, eyes wide. Archer grins but rolls his eyes. Derek is sure that he’s getting quoted later at the dinner table. Probably Stiles will laugh at the story. He and Archer laugh about Derek a lot. 

The kids are working quietly, building the sets. Derek knows that because of the additional manpower, it’ll be pretty much done after today. Probably the PTA lady will be shocked at his efficiency. 

He and Isaac are double-checking the height of a balcony when he looks over to see Archer trading paint stripes with a pretty red-haired girl. Isaac follows his gaze and chuckles,

“So she's why Archer wanted to come.”

Derek frowns, “Do you know which one she is?”

Isaac doesn’t need to flip through the list to nod, “Aubrey Gallagher. The seventeen year old that tried a striptease in the holding cell so that the guard might let her out.” 

Derek set his teeth, “She’s not good for the pack.”

“No.” Isaac agrees sagely and Derek is already walking over, his face set in a grim line. _No one_ is going to fuck over Archer McCall.

Archer’s blue eyes widen with half-horror as he spots Derek. It's easy to see that the young teenager is silently begging for his guardian not to do anything embarrassing in front of the pretty girl.

“S'up, Sheriff?” Aubrey grins at him and the twinkle in her face reminds him of too many things that he prefers not to think about.

“You’re not painting evenly.” Derek informs them, feeling himself clench to contain his anger. He turns to Archer, “I need you to help Isaac pick up lunch.”

“Why can’t anyone else do it?”

“Liability issue.”

Archer scowls but they both know that this actual truth works well as an excuse.

Derek raises an eyebrow, “What happened to supporting the arts, Cubby?”

“Cubby?” Aubrey asks, her face wide with amusement, “That’s adorable.”

Archer’s eyes widen with horror and Derek feels bad. It slipped out, which is wont to do from time to time. Usually just at the dinner table and then Archer half scowls at his 'baby' name.

Derek opens his mouth to apologize but Archer doesn't wait, giving Derek a large scowl before stomping over, joining Isaac in the car. Derek won't be surprised if Isaac returns by himself, having dropped Archer off at home.

Aubrey glances over, smiling flirtatiously “You can call _me_ Cubby if you want, Sheriff.”

“Paint evenly.” Derek snaps at her, half stalking off. He did not handle that well at all.

 

_“Dereeeeeeeeeek.” Archer protests as his babysitter shuts off the television. His blue eyes are huge with want but Derek knows full well that Archer’s bedtime is a strict nine o'clock, no ifs, ands or buts._

_“Bed.” He ruffles Archer’s damp blond hair, mostly immune to Archer’s attempts to look cute. With Scott’s olive complexion and Argent blue eyes, Archer looked pretty freaking cherubic, even now as a ten year old on the cusp of middle school. Allison liked to joke that they were going to make him model as a side job in college so they wouldn’t have to worry about tuition._

_“Fine.” Archer gets up with a mournful sigh, straightening an oversized wolf shirt that Scott got as a joke and never wore, “Don’t turn off the hall lights, okay?”_

_“Never.” Derek smiles at the nine year old, “I’ll come check on you after Rory.” She’d been a bit fussy all night and barely ate dinner._

_He didn’t want to call Allison and Scott unless it was an actual emergency. This was their first real kid-free vacation since their honeymoon two and a half years ago (which resulted in Rory). So he bathed her, dressed her and tucked her to bed. Her head was a little hot and Derek was worried when he ran a temperature and got a reading of ‘100.3.’_

_He decided to check her temperature again throughout the night, just to be safe. He knew from Scott’s experiences with Sick Archer that she was fevery but not emergency-room fevery._

_Still, Derek worried. And so he walked into Rory’s room, smiling warmly at how she had a loose grip on a bright pink cow someone bought as a joke. Her cheeks were red but she didn’t look sweaty. Checking her forehead, she was definitely hotter than usual and he stuck the ear thermometer for another read. It was point three degrees higher and Derek frowned._

_It was just alarming enough for him to call someone. Not Scott and Allison, of course and Melissa was on shift. He didn’t like talking to Chris if he could help it and Derek didn’t think he could handle Chris coming over, even if they were on perfectly civil terms._

_So he scanned the numbers on his cell, distrust growing until he hit one name, near the bottom: Stiles. Derek bit his lip and decided just to call. Stiles didn’t like playing the doctor in public but Derek needed reassurance that Rory was going to be fine._

_If he happened to be on duty, Derek would suck it up and call Chris but he really hoped that wasn’t necessary. Sitting on the white rocking chair near Rory’s bed (which is Archer’s old big-boy bed with guard rails), he strokes her soft brown hair as she shifts around in her sleep. Someone picked up after the third ring, a familiar voice filling the line: “Go away.”_

_Derek half sighs, a mixture of happy and guilt at hearing Stiles’ weary voice, “Stiles, it’s Derek.”_

_He winces when Stiles’s voice grows panicked, worried about his father. Of course he came to that conclusion. Derek is, after all, one of the senior deputies for Sheriff Stilinski. He’s quick to reassure Stiles, feeling bad for causing him to worry._

_“I need help. Rory’s sick.”_

_“Who’s Rory?” Derek chuckles, thinking that Stiles must have had a pretty brutal shift if he can barely remember Scott’s daughter. He reminds Stiles, knowing Scott sends pictures of the kids to him. Stiles laughs,_

_“I didn’t realize she had a nickname. Rory. That’s cute.”_

_“Yeah, she’s cute even when she’s sick.” Derek smiles, unable to help himself when he’s looking at her face with a thin sheen of sweat. She’s got more of a bloom in her cheeks than usual and she’s drooling a bit, but Derek still thinks that Rory McCall is the cutest damn thing he’s seen._

_“She’s what? Seven months now?” Stiles asks, Derek can hear him moving around, probably trying to get more awake. All the same, the age calculation makes Derek frown._

_“She’s fourteen months, Stiles.” He can’t help the undertone of annoyance. After all, Stiles is supposed to be her other godfather._

_“I missed her birthday?” He sounds regretful and Derek feels bad, rubbing the back of his neck. He has enough memories of Stiles at different McCall affairs, a flash of hurt on his face when he realizes that he’s not really part of the ‘inner circle’ anymore. At the same time, Derek is well aware that everyone is so damn proud of Stiles Stilinski for making something of himself._

_“Your dad came with a present from both of you.” He grins, remembering the look on Allison’s face when she opened it, “A toddler size hot-dog costume. Scott loved it and Allison hated it.” According to the sheriff, Stiles had helped him pick it out and that was enough for Scott to insist that Rory wear it to most of the summer barbecues._

_“Ugh, okay.” Stiles doesn’t seem like he wants to reflect on his own guilt and Derek feels better about it. He hates making Stiles feel hurt by how close he’s grown to the family, “What’s Rory’s temperature?”_

_Derek rattles it off, having just double-checked it seconds before Stiles picked up. They talk a bit about her diet, Stiles sounding calm as Derek grows a bit worried._

_“Should I?” He asks after Stiles questions him about fever reducers. Allison had told him specifically not to use any of the child medicines for Rory unless he called them or Stiles first, “I just don’t know what to do with sick humans.”_

_None of his brothers or sisters ever really got sick after all. Two were human but Derek didn’t recall what was done on those occasions past fluids and rest._

_“Hold on a sec. Lemme ask more questions.” Stiles didn’t sound too concerned, rattling off standard questions about breathing and bumps. Derek’s relieved to answer in the nugatory. He does remark on Rory’s unusual pickiness at dinner though._

_“Congratulations, you have the run-of-the-mill toddler with stomach flu. Keep her on fluids and don’t make her eat if she doesn’t want to eat. The virus will run its course. Two, three days tops.” He sounds so confident in his opinion that Derek feels a bit better. All the same, his anxiety is still high and he can’t help but ask about food though. Stiles reassures him, recommending a nutrient brand and Derek is so damn relieved to have Stiles in his life._

_He thinks that Stiles is about to hang up on him, but to his surprise, Stiles announces that he misses Scott. It’s almost plaintive, the same way Archer sounds when Derek shut off the television._

_“He misses you too. We-” Derek backs out of Rory’s room, suddenly feeling a bit too hot himself, “All do.” He shuts his eyes, wanting to hit himself at the admission._

_Instead of laughing or saying something stupid, Stiles just admits the same. Derek pads his way to Archer’s room, shaking his head in amusement when he sees Archer asleep on a comic book, one leg in the covers and the other hanging out of his bed._

_“How are they? The new house? Allison’s job? Archer? God, I miss Archer.” Stiles’ ramble causes Derek’s heart to squeeze, missing that talkative energy. He doesn’t remember all the questions except Archer. Gently, he manages to put Archer’s head on an actual pillow and tuck both legs into his Superman coverlet, “Archer’s good.”_

_He smiles and bends down to kiss Archer on the forehead, relieved that Archer’s head is still fairly cool to the touch. That's good because one sick kid is one too many. Turning off the bedroom light, Derek leaves, the door open just a quarter with the hallway light on-the way Archer prefers it._

_“He’s doing Little League baseball and I’m coaching.” Derek explains, his voice going a bit louder as he heads downstairs to the living room and starts to clean up the general mess, “Well, I’m actually coaching most of the department’s kids. Scott and Isaac are my assistant coaches, along with two other guys.” He grins, recalling the last game, “Allison and this other mom are in a Snack Mom war.”_

_It’s kinda nice being able to tell Stiles this. Derek isn’t used to talking about the kids like this, because usually it’s all old information._

_“What’s the team called?”_

_“Sons of Anarchy. There was a vote.” Derek rolls his eyes, knowing full well that Scott had rigged it by bribing most of the kids with lollipops, “I thought it’d be like the Comets or something.”_

_Stiles’ laughter is heartwarming, almost startling to Derek who hadn’t been expecting it. But then again, Scott and Stiles have a similar sense of humor._

_“That’s awesome, considering their parents’ actual occupation.”_

_“I’m surprised at the wit.” Derek admits, finding himself half laughing though it’s not quite normal for him, “Given that they’re nine and ten years old.”_

_“I think I saw some videos Scott emailed of Archer at bat. He’s got good form.” Stiles sounds like he’s not leaving anytime soon and Derek is warmed by that thought._

_“The ones your dad takes? Sheriff’s planning to do some kind of movie with it, he’s super excited about it.” Derek was amused by how Sheriff Stilinski treated the kids as if they were his own grand-children, “Allison’s helping him, but he won’t let us see anything.”_

_“Dad hangs out with you guys?” Derek can hear the pleased note in Stiles’ voice.  He wonders if Stiles is aware that the sheriff is the most physical reminder of Stiles that Scott has and in a way, Scott’s drawn him closer to the fold to try and keep Stiles close with the distance between them._

_He wonders if Stiles has called the sheriff lately. The video is one of Sheriff’s (okay, Derek was given permission to call him John but he couldn’t do it) favorite topics these days._

_“You should call him, Stiles.” Derek suggests, suddenly feeling bad that he’s managed to make contact with Stiles for so long when there are other people out there that love him and worry about him constantly, “Thanks for helping me with Rory. I’m going back to babysitting duty.”_

_“Yeah okay.” Derek wonders if he’s imagining the disappointment in Stiles’ voice and decides it’s just Stiles’ own exhaustion, “Ugh bye.”_

_Derek hangs up, not wanting to draw out the awkward conclusion. He looks down at the doll he’s been absentmindedly clutching since he stopped cleaning to talk to Stiles and scowls, chucking it across the room into Rory’s bin of toys._

“He still hasn’t talked to you?” Stiles frowned. He and Derek have been on opposite shifts for the last three days, not able to talk for more than fifteen minutes before leaving. Thankfully they had the kids on a structured schedule and loving grandparents that had to swoop in more than once. But now it was slowing down since Derek’s manhunt paid off and they found the missing girl. 

“I embarrassed him.” Derek explains, waiting for Stiles to pick a seat on the bleachers. However, his gaze is on Archer and the rest of the Beacon Hills basketball team, who happen to be practicing their free-throw shots.

Stiles showed up in his old gym shirt that was oversized on fifteen-year-old Stiles and almost too tight on thirty-three year old Stiles. He wore it as a joke, saying that he was going to be the hot dad this time. Granted, he was also wearing a red zip up, but he left it unzipped and that damn shirt might as well be painted onto his chest.

Derek couldn’t tell because of the jacket, but he was sure Stiles’ nips might be on display.

“Cubby isn’t even that bad a nickname. My dad pulled _way_ more embarrassing shit.” Stiles settles on an empty spot of bleacher in the second row, where it’s apparent that other parents are sitting. It’s not too crowed since this is junior varsity basketball but Derek is fairly sure that there’s going to be a crapload of people near the end, showing up for the varsity game.

“John told me that fourteen year olds are just mortified by their parents all the time,” Derek half sighs, not understanding it himself, “Can I have some of your water?”

Stiles is now in the habit of carrying a bright red backpack when they have to do children’s events (apparently he got the idea from a parenting magazine in his waiting room). It’s basically a crapload of healthy snacks, coloring books, hair accessories, a magnetized checkers set, two Highlights for Kids magazines, paper dolls, a miniature fan, two My Little Ponies, extra pens, a first aid kid (with extra bandages) and a book of crossword puzzles.

“Yeah.” Stiles hands him his filtered water bottle, pulling out a camera as well, “This is great. We can watch the whole game without having to entertain the girls. Hopefully they aren’t giving Dad a hard time.

“Please, he loves playing Princess Hair Salon.” Derek feels pleased as Stiles laughs though it’s not a brilliant joke. Everyone has been subjected to Scarlett’s favorite game, after all. Archer had even consented to purple eyeshadow and stick on earrings. Stiles surreptitiously sent a picture to Derek with the text _Saving for his wedding slideshow_.

Derek pretends not to notice when Stiles takes a swig of the water directly after Derek guzzles it. That doesn’t mean anything.

“Excuse me?” One of the other moms turns from her place in the bleachers, “ _Hi_! I’m Trish, Jamie’s Mom.”

“Hi.” Stiles smiles back at her, but Derek hears a more detached tone in the voice, similar to his doctor voice, “I’m Stiles, this is Derek. We’re Archer’s guardians.”

“I just wanted to say, I think it’s so great that you guys are taking care of the kids.” She smiles warmly but Derek feels uncomfortable all the same. He’s not comfortable with strangers, which helps and hinders his job.

“It’s a hard job but we love them.” Stiles shrugs as Derek just looks down. A lot of people have come up to them, saying some version of this line and he still can’t quite accept the compliment.

Especially now that he and Archer are at odds. Scott never would’ve embarrassed Arch like that, Derek thinks.

“So how long have you two been together?” She’s asking, curious.

Stiles laughs, clapping a hand over Derek’s shoulder, “It feels like forever these days.”

“Right.” She smiles and turns back to the court, “Oh the game’s starting. Anyway, it’s great to meet you both.” Trish moves back to where she was sitting and the warmth of Stiles’ hand leaves Derek.

Derek glances at Stiles, “Forever, huh?”

Stiles looks at him in surprise, asking softly, “What, were you interested in her?” He makes a slight face, “She’s married, but I have it on good authority that the moms think your ass is _fine_.”

He sarcastically plucks at his shirt as if his heart is about to come out. Derek resists the temptation to peek at Stiles’ exposed clavicle, knowing he’ll see the teasing whorl of chest hair that begins a thin line down Stiles’ torso, to more interesting parts of Stiles that Derek has never seen firsthand. 

“No, not interested.” Derek admits, his cheeks coloring as his eyes focus on Archer who is on the bleachers, cheering for his buddies, “I need popcorn.” 

“Right. Popcorn.” Stiles grins, “Stay here, take pictures. I’ll get the popcorn. You take better pictures anyway.”

Derek knows that’s true especially for games. Most of Stiles' pictures are out of focus because Stiles is never looking at the screen when he snaps the picture, too busy following the game with his own eyes and then hits the button as an afterthought.

He’s about to take a shot of Archer absorbed in the game when Archer notices and scowls directly at him. Dammit.

Derek doesn’t take the picture, just lowers the camera and sighs. He’s already apologized twice to Archer but it rolls off of him. It doesn’t help that he had to deal with finding a little girl over the past two days and Stiles has had three different high-tier patients in hospital beds.

They talk a lot about extra help but it’s been okay so far. It’s not always going to be this crazy and chaotic. Not in sleepy Beacon Hills, California.

Stiles returns with a whoop as the coach puts Archer in the game. He hands Derek the popcorn, grinning, “I just had an awkward run-in with Jackson Whittemore.”

Derek nods, not looking away from the game, “Jackson coaches the varsity team.”

“Jackson _lives_ here?” 

“He’s pack.” Derek takes a bite of popcorn, “I’m helping him coach the baseball team so I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to catch up.”

He sets up a shot and snaps the camera just as someone passes Archer the ball. Stiles whoops and Derek can’t help but smile. It’s shaping up to be a good game.

“He made fun of this shirt. Do you like this shirt?”

Derek doesn’t dare look at that damn shirt, “The only time Jackson didn’t mock you at some point was the funeral. He hasn’t actually matured all that much since high school.”

“I barely remember the funeral.” Stiles admits him quietly as Archer hands off the ball, “Except y’know, worrying.” It’s a weird place for this conversation, but Derek and Stiles are so used to weird, particularly when it comes to their relationship.

“Me too.” Derek takes another shot of Archer crowding another player, then Archer stealing the ball, although it’s not successful. Stiles stood up to shout out a protest and Derek forces him to sit down, giving everyone an apologetic face.

“My husband gets really into these games too, don’t worry.” Trish whispers, amused.

“We’re not together.” Derek clarifies, annoyed as he takes another handful of popcorn. 

Stiles laughs at the exchange but then he’s clapping anxiously on Derek, half standing with anticipation, “Oh, he’s going to shoot!” 

Derek catches the money shot. Archer lays up the ball and his face screwed up in concentration. Stiles screams louder than anyone when it sinks into the net, waving like a loon. Derek’s even taken a picture of Stiles’ crazy euphoria. 

“He’s mine!” Stiles screams to everyone, still clapping like mad. His smile is so wide it almost hurts to look at him, “That’s _my_ kid!” Derek can see Archer turning over to Stiles. Sure his blue eyes look wide with alarm and there’s a bloom in his cheeks, but Derek sees a ghost of a smile for Stiles.

All the same, he tugs Stiles down, “Careful, he’s already mortified by one of us. I don’t want to have to send out an APB.”

“Oh right.” Stiles shakes himself, grinning dazedly, “I really don’t know what came over me.” 

Derek looks at him in surprise, “Your dad did the same shit at your lacrosse games when you scored, remember?”

Stiles shoves him lightly, laughing. 

After the game, (which Beacon Hills won by a good ten points) Archer is in high spirits while Derek fiddles with the camera, shutting it off.

“You should take him. He’ll want frozen yogurt. I’ll pick up the girls.”

“Derek-” Stiles starts, but he’s already left, not wanting to hear the argument, “Derek!” 

_Derek scowls at the prom set-up. Cora looks happy and he figures it’s worth it for that small thing. As long as she’s not going near any of Isaac’s things, of course._

_Oh wait, he spoke too soon. They’re coming closer together, their hips almost flush._

_“Hey,” Stiles greets him, sounding winded. Derek got tired just looking at Stiles dance with the large group of high schoolers._

_“Isaac’s touching her.” He informs Stiles, letting out a growl that easily carries to Isaac who backs about a good six feet away from Cora. He doesn’t give a shit when she glowers at him, his attention turning to Stiles’ laugh as he takes the cup of punch Derek had been holding for him._

_“Derek?” He freezes, knowing all too well that voice. Stiles’ eyes are wide with half disbelief too and they both turn around, seeing Jennifer. She smiles, looking a little uncomfortable at seeing him._

_“Ms. Blake!” Stiles blurts out, being the first one to talk in this uncomfortable exchange (of course), “Derek just wanted to be here to watch his sister. We aren’t actually dating. I don’t want to sex him up or anything. Oh god, I’m still talking.”_

_Derek rolls his eyes and Stiles is quick to slink away, back to the floor where he can be an immature high school kid that doesn’t have to share an awkward conversation with Derek's ex._

_“Derek.” She repeats, her hands twisted up together, “It’s good of you to take Stiles.”_

_“Ulterior motive-my little sister is Lahey’s date.” Derek admits, jerking his hand toward where he’s sure the pair are now dancing closer together since he has to look away from them, “In full disclosure, had Stiles gotten a real date, I was going to ask you for a very awkward favor.”_

_She nods, looking at him with that expression that tears him up, “When you helped me grade papers, you paid the most attention to Stiles’ work.”_

_Derek doesn’t respond, “You know I never-”_

_“And you know why I broke up with you, Derek. It wasn’t the extra hair.”_

_“I told you it was ridiculous then and it’s still ridiculous now.” Derek tells her firmly, “He’s pack, Jen. Just...with a little less hair than the others.”_

_“I guess.” She sighs, “To be fair, I also hated how you never clean up after you trim your stubble or nails.”_

_“Don’t forget about my tendency to scare you when entering a room without notice.”_

_“That wore off after some time.” She laughs, her eyes bright with a sort of teary amusement, “You’re an acquired taste, like whiskey and caviar.”_

_Derek wrinkles his nose. He’s not a fan of the Russian delicacy though he definitely has Russian in his background. He glances over at his sister, who is now making out with Isaac._

_Without much of an explanation, he leaves Jennifer’s side to stomp over and insist on dancing with her. Cora half scowls before laughing. Her eyes are bright in a way that Derek hasn’t seen in a long time._

_“God, I can’t believe I’m at my high school prom.”_

_“You don’t go here.”_

_“It’s still mine.” Cora informs him, smiling, “Do you remember seeing Laura get ready for hers? She promised to do my hair, gossip about my date and scare the crap out of him.”_

_Derek sighs, thinking of the reality, “Well, it’s not what Laura promised.”_

_“No.” Cora agrees sadly, “And relax. Isaac and I really are just friends. We’re too...sad to really work together.”_

_“I guess I get that.” Derek pecks her on the forehead, “But when I look at you, I just see the eleven year old I accidentally left behind.”_

_“Derek, Stiles is smashed.” Isaac looks a little alarmed as he rushes over, “A few of the football guys are trying to egg him into drinking the rest of the spiked punch. Look, don’t worry. We’ll get a ride from Boyd.”_

_“Shit.” Derek sighs, knowing he’s gotta take care of Stiles and glances at Cora, “You’re beautiful tonight, princess.”_

_She laughs and half rubs noses from him: an expression of affection from childhood. Derek doesn’t even remember the last person he rubbed noses with, and it sends a shot of warmth through his body._

_“You’re a gentleman tonight, Lahey.” Derek’s hand gripped Isaac’s shoulder, his voice laced with Alpha attitude that leaves Cora rolling her eyes, no doubt. But Isaac will obey him and Derek feels no twinge of concern about Cora as he rushes over to extricate his date._

_Stiles was surprisingly debonair in the nearly all-white suit that evening. Right now Derek is just relieved that it made him easier to spot with most of the boys going for dark jackets._

_Sure enough, he’s with a crowd of boys near the punch table, talking rapidly. Derek can barely understand him. He sighs, knowing he’s got to take Stiles home and walks over with that very intent._

_It doesn’t take too much to get the others to back off. He considers carrying Stiles over his back but decides that Stiles is fine with just a support under his arm. He’s still talking, but it’s mostly gibberish that Derek tunes out like white noise._

_In the parking lot, Derek has to set Stiles against the hood of his SUV, sighing._

_“Stiles, can I have my keys?” He’d given them to Stiles since his damn pants and vest came without pockets._

_Stiles’ eyes are glazed and he’s fixated on the night sky, “Moon. The moon’s so fucking bright.”_

_Derek sighs, deciding that he’s going to have to find the keys himself. He smoothed down Stiles’ front pant pocket, causing Stiles to jump and grin widely, his eyes hooded as he lets out a moan that sets Derek’s well-behaved dick twitching with interest._

_“Just take off my clothes.” Stiles is tugging off the jacket and Derek laughs at how far gone he is. He doesn’t pay attention as Stiles yanks the pristine white jacket (well okay, there were a few punch stains on it by now, not to mention a bloodstain on the cuff from when Stiles used it to help with Scott’s nosebleed a half hour ago) to the ground, his smooth fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt._

_Derek’s not very worried about Stiles getting naked. He’s too drunk to work the buttons, his eyes glassy. Ignoring him, Derek manages to dip a hand into his right back pocket-empty. While the curve of Stiles’ ass is information that gets filed away, Derek’s no closer to finding his keys._

_“Danny…” Stiles pants, looking at Derek with hero worship. The pack has been teasing Stiles about Danny lately and it amuses Derek most of the time since Stiles looks so damn uncomfortable every time Danny’s name is mentioned. Derek doubts Stiles could ever really make a move._

_Knowing it has to be on the other side, Derek effortlessly slips a hand into that pocket and comes out with a handful of condoms. Damn, there were at least seven in there._

_“Fucking Danny.” Stiles voices as explanation, practically panting, “D-d…so pretty.”_

_Derek doesn’t really know what to say, tossing the condoms on the ground as he picks up Stiles’ jacket, “I don’t think you’ll be using these condoms tonight, Stiles. We’ll get you home and in bed.”_

_He finds his wallet and keys in the inside pocket, quick to lead Stiles inside the car. He’s well aware that he drives over the condoms on his way out of the parking lot._

_“I bet you’ve got an amazing cock.” Stiles informed him, eyes sleepy with a sort of want that’s fueling fierce lust in Derek, “I think about it in the shower.”_

_Derek groans, knowing that Stiles isn’t talking about him, “Just shut up.”_

_“Shut me up with your-”_

_“Stiles!” Derek glares at him, already having abused the image Stiles was suggesting, “Shut up or I swear, I’m going to rip your throat out.” His hand is already squeezing the steering wheel too hard while the other one is threatening to claw out the cupholders between the drivers seat and the shotgun seat._

_Miraculously Drunk Stiles complies with his demand, only babbling here and there for the rest of the ride. Once at Stiles’ house, Derek manages to get him up the stairs. John follows with a glass of water and two Advils, amused at the kind of shitfaced drunk Stiles makes._

 

Stiles is playing Tetris as he leans back in the driver’s seat while Derek fiddles with his department issued tablet. They haven’t moved from their spot in the school parking lot for almost forty minutes. Apparently the group therapy classes are on Monday nights and Archer made them promise to wait in the parking lot the whole time. Well, he made Stiles promise while Derek sat there, frustrated by Archer’s attitude.

Stiles made Derek come with him, determined to resolve their impasse after he caught a flash of Derek’s hurt face when he congratulated Archer on the basketball game. 

“You let these kids run all over you.” Stiles blurts out, bored of Tetris. Derek’s hand is frozen midair as he stares at Stiles.

“I-?” 

“The girls never clean up and Archer thinks it’s perfectly okay to treat you like you’re shit. It’s not.” Stiles sighs, “Don’t get me wrong, I love how you always put the kids first but you don’t have any limits for them.”

Stiles mentioned the cleaning thing vaguely in the past, often in a burst of exasperation. Derek always ignores it. Even when Stiles left out an article about kids that don’t clean up their messes. Derek had skimmed it, feeling guilty but he couldn’t force himself to make them when the girls were so excited about their next activity. 

“Are we getting into this?” He doesn’t want to fight with Stiles.

“Are we-? Do you have _issues_ with my parenting?” Stiles asked, bewildered. He frowns, crossing his arms, “Share, Derek.” 

Derek hesitates, turning off his tablet, “You’re pushy. I know you’re teaching Scarlett how to read just because Cam already does.”

He knows he hits the mark when Stiles flushes with recognition.

“Half the time around Rory, you ask her to say _something_ and she just shuts down.”

Stiles let out a controlled sigh. Derek feels sort of guilty pointing that out when he knows that they’re all practically on their tip-toes, ears perked up for any sort of sound out of her lips. 

And Archer-” Derek scowls, knowing it isn’t much, “Well, I never would’ve bothered with the math tutor or therapy unless he asked me himself. So I guess I don’t have too much on that.”

“I haven’t found a math tutor yet with the background I think he could benefit fro-” Stiles cuts himself off, realizing how irrational he sounds and flushes deeper, “I get your point.” 

“You remember when Archer was born?”

Stiles nods with a fond smile.

Thanksgiving Day. There was a freak snowstorm and Melissa ended up delivering the baby with a major assist from Stiles. Scott was passed out in the hall while Derek, Chris and John eyeballed each other as they took care of dinner, manfully ignoring the screams.

“It was like this shiny new piece of… _pack_.” Derek shrugs, thinking back to the small newborn boy that had snuffled against his chest, “I just want to protect him, love him...all of them.”

Stiles sighs, rubbing his head, “He won’t leave you. They love you more, Der.” His voice cracks and Derek can hear the sadness, “Rory always wants to hold your hand, Scarlett gets cranky if I have to run bathtime hour and Archer…he looks up to you. They love you so much that they can get mad at you without worrying that you’re going to leave them.”

Derek frowns, “That’s shit, Stiles. They know you’re permanent.”

“I apologized to him for being such a dad at the game and he just said that was cool. That he’d rather have me there instead of in Seattle.”

Derek half nods in thought, glancing over where Archer and other kids are spilling out of the school gym, “If I enforce your cleanup rules and talk to Archer about respect, will you let me pick the math tutor and stop pushing Scarlett into reading?” 

“Yes.” Stiles pauses, “I can stop asking Rory too. I shouldn’t do that anyway.”

Derek shrugs before reaching over to touch him lightly, “Sometimes you just beat other people to the question.”

There's a beat as they stare at each other, feeling weirdly light and full of relief. Derek's fingers are light on Stiles' arm and he yanks them away, spotting a familiar blond tufted teenager headed their way.

Archer gets in, his face puffy, “I hated it.”

“Okay. Well it was just a trial-” Stiles starts

“You should go back.” Derek says firmly, “You know how I lost my entire family Archer. I didn’t go to therapy for that until I was twenty-eight and Allison dragged a therapist to my house.”

Stiles blinks in surprise, not having known.

Archer sighs, looking less unruffled by Derek's uncharacteristic statement, “I _guess_ I can. It’s mostly girls”

“They cute?” Stiles asks, starting the car as he gestures for Derek to do up his seatbelt, Archer already buckled in.

“Not like Aubrey.” Derek flinches at the name, nearly crushing the metal T of the belt. Thankfully it still clicks into place.

Archer sighs, “Derek?” 

“Yeah?” Derek asks 

“I miss Rory’s stupid babbling.” Archer lets out an annoyed sigh, “So I guess you probably missed me talking to you about stuff.”

“I did.” Derek nods, “I had to make do with Isaac and he knows shit about basketball.”

He can see from the overhead mirror that Archer grins, but his eyes are firmly on the window, scanning the outside. Derek sort of understands why Archer’s talking now, where they can’t really make eye contact. It’s a little easier, sort of like a confessional.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-” He starts crying and Stiles pulls over while Derek lunges for the back, wrapping Archer in a warm hug. 

He hasn’t hugged his godson properly in a long time. Archer wasn’t looking for affection at the funeral and he’d never been a particularly tactile kid, though he did hug his parents and distant family (like Stiles) on special occasions. 

It’s almost overwhelming for Derek, Archer’s soft scent of Scott and Allison wrapped up in sweaty leather and grass, his tears hot on Derek's shoulder as he cries.

“I’m sorry.”

Archer wipes his face, pulling away as Stiles starts driving again, “I heard some stories that made me realize I’m being so stupid.” He sighs, “I even sorta missed you calling me Cubby.”

Derek laughs, reaching over to rub his face into Archer’s hair. He’s beyond words with relief and joy.

“Watch out Cubby, I might get a sign for your next game.”

Archer laughs despite himself, shoving Derek and they both sober up.

“Look Archer, you can’t do that to me again.” Derek admits honestly, “I don’t-I need you to talk to me when you’re mad because I don’t mean to make you so mad.”

Archer nods, looking at him, his eyes brighter than before, “I’ll try. It’s just easier not to…try.” He frowns, glancing over at Derek with vague worry that he doesn’t understand.

“Yeah.” Derek laughs though it sounds bitter to him, “That’s why I’m still in therapy and we’re making you and Rory go. Not trying is shit.”

“Yeah.” Stiles echoes in the resulting silence. Derek can hear him trying not to sniffle, “Uh, anyone up for diner food? I’m feeling nostalgia for some curly fries.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I was all set to post last Thursday when my computer had the great indignity to DIE on me.Thankfully, I had the outline backed up and I was only one chapter ahead so losing this chapter was hard but at least I rewrote it to be more awesome?
> 
> Thanks so much for commenting and sticking around! I'm really sorry about the delay-it was majorly unintended.


	7. Stiles Against The Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles deals with seventh birthday madness and meeting Archer's tutor, an old friend of Derek's.

Stiles is about ready to shoot his brains out with Derek’s gun (which is locked up in the safe).

The first floor of the house is swathed in pink and yellow, no corner left in peace. Cloth is pinned from the walls to the ceilings, creating a tentlike effect Stiles doesn’t like.

Even the stairs have been beribboned in twists of pink and yellow tulle (Lydia found crepe paper far too pedestrian for a Princess Aurora party) and balloons with huge number 7s on them. Screaming little girls between four and seven years old are pretty much everywhere. Or at least they _had_ been.

The party is thankfully, blessedly _over_ after five and a half hours of being in the middle of some seriously pink and yellow glitter covered trenches. The world, or at least Beacon Hills, knows that Rory is seven years old.

Invitations had been sent out when Allison was alive. Scarlett had been bouncing with excitement and refused to wear anything but her two princess dresses. Stiles was close to buying a third just to have more variety and less trips to the washer. As for Rory, she didn’t seem adverse about having a big birthday party, nor was she excited. Dr. Nussbaum certainly hadn’t seemed concerned that it might affect her adversely when Stiles called. Instead, he thought that it would be good to stick to tradition so that Rory didn’t feel like she was losing ‘everything.’

Archer was easily the least excited, but he stuck around, helping set down platters of pigs in blankets speared with toothpicks and sugared marshmallow wands that only promised hyperactivity and cavities. Stiles decided to give Archer an extra ten in his allowance this week.

He and Derek would’ve been happy to cancel. They had planned to take Rory on a cable car and Chinatown and to see the sea lions at Fisherman’s Wharf.

Lydia however, argued that the princess castle bounce house was nonrefundable, along with the pink chocolate fountain, the five ponies and their handler, the two manicurists and the girl band that had agreed to dress up as Disney Princesses and sing songs from any of the movies. The topper, of course, had been when he discovered that Jackson was dressed up as Prince Phillip.

Rory always had a Sleeping Beauty party (since they were namesakes) and Jackson had been Prince Phillip since she turned three years old and the Amazon-ordered costume (intended for Scott) didn’t fit anyone else.

Stiles suspected that Jackson was the reason behind full attendance and prompt RSVPs. Almost none of the moms left after dropping off their child, instead sticking around to admire the party and talk to other adults while surreptitiously glancing at Jackson, who wore brown tights and a thin brown shirt that ended about mid thigh. Stiles’ favorite part was the long red cape. The girls loved to tug at it but Jackson was a shockingly good sport, smiling warmly and taking multiple pictures.

Of course at the end of the party, he’d been the same douche Stiles knew from high school, although Derek claimed that Stiles and Jackson brought that out in each other.

Archer walks into the “Princess Receiving Room” (or ‘Living Room’) and flops next to Stiles on the pink and yellow tie-dyed fabric (Stiles would pull the sheet off their much abused leather couch later when he found the effort to move again). Pink and yellow Gerber daisies littered the room, despite Stiles’ best efforts to get moms to take the damn things (most were as anti-dirt as Stiles).

“I always forget how exhausting these girl parties are.” Archer yawns, “Dad gave me fifty last time I helped.” 

“Yeah right.” Stiles yawns, affected by Archer’s, “No way your dad gave you anything over a ten.”

Archer laughs, “He would’ve given me seven because she’s turning seven, actually.”

Stiles shrugs, “Okay. We’re going to give you a ten. Consider the three extra bucks a tip.”

“Some tip.”

“Oh yeah?” Stiles eyes him, “What’s the perc-”

“Nooo,” Archer scowls, making a face, “If I do the math, do we still have to meet my math tutor tomorrow?”

“Yes. Derek worked really hard and I’m sure that the guy is going to be great.”

“I’m still not doing the percentage.” Archer yawns, “I can’t even remember how to move my legs.”

“Ugh, I know that feeling.” Stiles winces, thinking of how he had to chase after several girls that were just a little too far away. Damn woods.

“Wine?” Derek walks in with a mostly full bottle of pinot, “Just got Scarlett down for a nap and Lydia’s getting Rory changed into something more comfortable. We’re going to open presents.”

“Please.” Stiles says

“Can I?” Archer asks

Stiles frowns, glancing at Archer before looking at Derek, “What do you think, Sheriff?”

Derek rolls his eyes, “Only because you suffered as much as we did.” He nods to Archer’s bright pink nails. Archer also has glitter in his hair. Derek, for his part, has eyeliner on, along with a smudged pink and yellow butterfly painted onto his cheek. Stiles cannot stop staring at it. Somehow it only makes him hotter?

Jackson walks in with the last of the brightly wrapped gifts. There’s now a good pile of presents for Rory and Stiles is already wondering where they’re going to put her new things. And what happened to gift certificates?

“Stiles didn’t get any makeup or paint.” Archer argues, “So I should get more, right?” 

“Stiles negotiated more than seven different spats between children and mothers today.” Stiles countered, “As well as cleaned and made sure that none of the girls ran off into the woods.” 

“Stiles gets more because he’s legal.” Derek informs Archer, before turning to Stiles, “But thank you for that, Stiles.”

Stiles stares at Derek for that remark, feeling strangely touched and that mascara is really affecting him because Derek’s eyes pop and Stiles just wants to take a bath in that exact color. It would be a touch too hot, like that first sip of hot chocolate that scalds your tongue if you don’t blow it first.

“Uh, you’re welcome.” Stiles managed to stammer out as Rory bounces downstairs, her brown eyes bright with birthday excitement. Lydia’s managed to get her into a bath and her wet brown hair has been braided. She’s wearing a Sleeping Beauty nightgown that’s a touch too small for her and has a hole at the elbow. Stiles made a note to buy a new one. He knows that’s one of Rory’s favorite pajamas.

“Hey Princess Rory.” Jackson grins at her, looking like the perfect Disney Prince and Rory hugs him, smiling.

She hadn’t said a thing throughout the party, but the other girls hadn’t been too affected by it. Everyone made their lace crowns, danced around in brightly colored princess dresses and ate ridiculous amounts of sugar. The only good thing about that was the lack of cake leftovers.

“Ready to open your presents, Princess?” Derek asks her. Rory nods. She stares at the presents, as if just realizing how many she had. Clapping her hands with excitement, she’s quick to take a seat between Stiles and Derek, smiling widely. Stiles can even see the gap where she lost a tooth. He smiles broadly and ducks down to kiss her on top of her head. Derek follows suit. 

There’s a flash and Stiles blinks, realizing that Lydia has taken a picture of them-Stiles, Rory and Derek.

“This is a great picture!” Lydia holds out her iPhone for Stiles to see, looking at himself smiling fondly at Derek as Derek kisses Rory on her head, his butterfly print prominent on his cheek while Rory is beaming like she’s a little girl turning seven years old sitting on the couch with her parents.

Well, her parental guardians.

“I like it.” Derek says quietly

“Me too.” Stiles admitted, nodding half unconsciously as he catches Derek’s eye. He has to look away before dirty thoughts take over his mind, pretending instead that he’s delighted that another Barbie is added to Rory’s collection of eighteen (which he views as fourteen too many).

_Stiles let out a whoop. Derek Hale is turning twenty-something and he is eighteen years old now. No laws are going to be broken tonight when he finds Derek tonight, completely sober, and admits his feelings._

_After all, he’s got nothing to lose. Prom is over and done with, graduation is around the corner. Fuck, if this worked out, Derek could be his graduation date._

_Stiles lets out a controlled breath. He is not going to freak out. Instead, he will calmly find Derek, maybe greet him with a kiss a’la Heath-_

_Actually no, not like Heather because that hadn’t led to any kind of happy ending for Stiles. But he did remember to bring a condom this time, as well as a packet of lubricant._

_Granted, both items came from Scott’s bathroom since most of the cashiers knew Stiles’ father would want to know if his son was buying sex-related items._

_But Stiles was prepared. And if Derek shot him down, Stiles had a date with his dad’s good friend, Jack Daniels, later._

_“Stiles!” Scott yells at him, clearly antsy and Stiles walks out of the bathroom, his teeth freshly brushed and Scott chuckles,_  
  
“Don’t you think a button-down is a little formal for a Derek party?”

_Stiles looked down at his ironed blue slacks and pinstriped dress shirt, “You think? I’ve never really attended a Hale birthday party before.”_

_“I’d wear a regular t-shirt.” Scott shrugs, “It’s really just cake and presents dude."_

_“We were supposed to get presents?” Stiles feels himself getting panicky as he switches shirts, slipping into a more comfortable Captain America shirt._

_“You sign mine, and you can pay me back for half later.” Scott assures him_

_“What’d you get?”_

_“Twenty five dollar gift card to Home Depot,” Scott explains, “I’m forging your signature.”_

_Stiles bursts out of the closet, freaking out. It’s not what he would give Derek, though it is thoughtful and something he’d use. But Stiles doesn’t know what he’d give Derek Hale besides the promise of decent times between the sheets. But can you give a guy a birthday sex gift card? Stiles doesn’t think so._

_“So the card is what? Happy Birthday from Scott and Stiles?”_

_Scott shrugs, “Pretty much, yeah.” He slips it back into the card, grinning at Stiles, “Let’s go, man. Isaac said we might do poker and I’m feeling pretty lucky tonight.”_

_“Not gonna lie,” Stiles sighs, clapping Scott on the shoulders, “Me too.”_

_Tonight, if he had anything to say about it, Stiles Stilinski was going to get fucking lucky._

 

Stiles closed the door, twisting his neck. It hadn’t been a bad shift, all in all. They had him on call in the ER between his rounds and he was bushed, but it’d been nice to have a constant flurry of activity going on, at least. He was still struggling with the hopelessly outdated technology that the hospital relied on though.

Except for Maternity, of course. They had the best of everything.

“Hey, Doc’s home!” Stiles yells as he hooks his keys on the wall, next to Derek’s set. He doesn’t smell anything from the kitchen but Derek’s been grilling more lately. 

“Stiles!” Scarlett rushes out to greet him, hugging him by the legs, “You’re home, you’re home!” 

“I _am_!” Stiles smiles and reaches down to pull her up and spins her around once, heart twisting with amusement as she squeals, yelling out: “Stiles is home!”

He hears Rory giggle as she watches him settle Scarlett on his side, her brown eyes shining. Stiles smiles and bends down, opening his arms, “Do I get a hug from Princess Rory too?”

She nods and hugs him as well. Stiles takes in her comforting scent of strawberry L’Oreal and sugar flavored Lipsmackers for a second, pecking her on the cheek before he looks up to see Derek smile at him amusedly,

“Hey. Archer’s in our office with his tutor. I’ll be done with the steaks in fifteen and they’ll eat with us.”

“Awesome. That gives me enough time to take a shower and throw on some sweats.” Stiles tries not to linger overly much on Derek’s faded white BHPD shirt. The sleeves were cut off a while ago, courtesy of Archer and Derek’s arms could be admired from the surprisingly delicate wrist to the rock hard expanse of biceps all the way to a massive shoulder.

“Me too!” Scarlett announces. She’s always clingy to Stiles and Derek when they first come home but it wears off fairly quickly.

Derek laughs, “Forget it, pup. Set her down, Stiles. She and Rory need to go put away all the Barbie clothes before dinner starts.”

“You heard Derek.” Stiles set her down, shooting Derek a grateful smile.

Neither of the girls appeared to be terribly offended, chasing each other back to their original spot. Derek would make sure they cleaned up the majority of the mess.

“How was your day?” Derek asks, lingering in the foyer with Stiles.

“Long.” Stiles sighed, rubbing his face, “But at least it wasn’t…” Stiles paused in thought, unable to explain how he missed the rush of surgery, “I don’t know.” He shrugs, “Get any bad guys today?”

“Bunch of speeders. Your dad called, he’s going out to dinner but he invited us over on Tuesday night to meet his lady friend.”

“While the kids are at Melissa’s? Interesting.” Stiles yanks his tie down, lost in thought. He doesn’t realize that he’s knotting his tie more than he is actually untying it.

Derek steps in, rolling his eyes as he yanks the tie from Stiles and undoes it. Stiles just stares at how close Derek’s face is.

“In other news, I got a note from Rory’s counselor.” 

Those light colored eyes framed with thick lashes and the stubble on his jawline that promised souvenirs in the morning. There’s a peek of tongue barely showing between Derek’s lips and Stiles’s mind has already plotted ten different ways to capture that tongue.

“He wants Rory to participate in some kind of afterschool activity.”

Stiles sucks in a breath, “Uh…” He can’t think of anything to say and Derek looking up at him with confusion only causes his brain to stutter even _more_ , “Thanks…man.”

Damn, his voice was _not_ supposed to be that high pitched. He tried to deepen it with the second word as Derek lifts an eyebrow.

“We’ll talk about…an activity. With her.” He scratches his head, slowly gaining the ability to think, “She used to do ballet or something right?” Now his voice sounds more normal and Stiles tries not to let the relief show on his face. 

“Yeah. Dinner will be ready in ten.” Derek says as he backs away, shoving his hands into track pants pockets, “Archer really likes his tutor by the way.”

“Oh that’s good.” Stiles nods, able to think a little more clearly now that Derek is a bit further away, “I’m going to take the world’s fastest shower and change into something more comfortable.”

 

_Stiles sucks in a breath as he drives up onto the Hale property. Derek’s been renovating for the last six months and it’s clear that there’s some major construction going on. Thankfully someone (probably Lydia) has set down a path of plastic candle lights leading to the backyard in case someone doesn’t read the text message saying to go around to the back._

_Jackson and Isaac are wrestling, trying to pin the other, while Lydia and Allison sip (discreetly) from blue plastic cups._

_“Hey guys!” Allison smiles, “Lydia made some of her special lemonade for the birthday boy. Want some?”_

_“Werewolf beware.” Lydia teases, “Stiles, I diluted yours with regular lemonade.” She nods over to a third blue cup on the table, “The others have red.”_

_“Nice.” Scott grins at both of them, “Where’s Derek?”_

_“He and Cora are bringing out some food.” Lydia frowns, “Jackson, it’s been thirty seconds!”_

_Jackson rolls over and Isaac springs up like the clown from Pop Goes The Weasel boxes. He even smiles a bit like that clown too._

_Scott takes a sip from the red cup and grins, “Oh that’s nice, Lyds. I’m not going to drink too much though.”_

_Cora walks through with a platter of meat that Stiles doesn’t quite recognize but Scott moans in appreciation,_

_“Deer, nice!”_

_“Derek got it himself.” Cora grins, looking directly at Stiles for his reaction. Stiles can’t help but flash with mild disgust, though the idea of Derek, wolfed out, going after the deer is pretty…well, interesting._

_“Smells good.” Stiles settles for saying, honest._

_“Good. It’s my favorite.” Derek walks in with silverware and paper plates, “Eat up, we have plenty.”_

_“Any salad, side dishes?” Stiles asks_

_“I made some pasta salad.” Allison tells him, amused, “I’ll get it out of the fridge and we have cake for afterwards, of course.”_

_Derek groans, as if receiving affection might actually kill him. He takes the head of the white dingy plastic table with the meat directly in front of him._

_Stiles tries to sit next to Derek, but Cora and Isaac beat him to it, more eager for the meat than Derek’s presence. Scott is obviously saving a seat for Allison, despite her mandate that they are Just Friends. Jackson is on the other side and Stiles already knows that the seat between Jackson and Isaac will be for Lydia. So he sits on the other side of the table, directly across from Derek._

_“Ethan’s coming over later with Danny.” Jackson adds, trying to get Derek to give him a little more of the flavoring puddling the bottom of the pan, “This smells amazing.”_

_“It is amazing.” Scott says with his mouth full, grinning_

_“A small one for me. I had a big lunch.” Stiles lies as Derek looks at him with the unspoken question. He’s a little adverse to foods that aren’t part of his usual diet. Plus he suspects that Derek makes it too close to rare for comfort._

_Derek’s definition of small clearly doesn’t line up with Stiles’ judging from the slab of venison he gets stuck with._

_Allison sits down with her delicious looking pasta salad and Stiles is happy to heap a great deal on his plate._

_At some point, Stiles thinks, everyone will drift off and he can get Derek to himself. Just tell Derek that he’s…well._

_Damn, why didn’t Stiles write it down? It’s much harder to remember things when he’s talking to Derek. Half the time, Stiles is just relieved that he’s coherent._

_Sure enough, after Lydia brings out an elegantly decorated chocolate cake with a wolf figurine on top, everyone sings Happy Birthday as Derek scowls. Stiles can’t help but smile when Cora hugs him tightly, half burrowing her head into his neck and he sort of snuffles her back._

_It’s a rare glimpse of affection between Hales._

_Stiles takes another sip. Everything is getting a bit buzzy and he knows he should slow down. His alcohol tolerance is one drink though he can’t help but test that fact, try and chase the nice buzz that results from more than one drink._

_All of a sudden, music is playing. Danny laughs as Ethan exaggerates a bow and takes his hand, the two of them going off to where Jackson and Isaac had been wrestling before, wrapped up in each other as they swayed to a song from the Twilight soundtrack (which Stiles had been forced to watch during a brief babysitting stint this past summer)._

_Lydia half sighs and smacks Jackson’s shoulder, her intention clear. He rolls his eyes but gets up all the same, smiling at her as he holds out his hand. Jackson is still an ass, but at least he’s an ass in love and it makes him more tolerable than usual._

_Isaac grins at Cora, “Wanna dance pretty lady?” Isaac’s attraction to Cora is obvious but so is the fact that she’s not all that interested in him as a romantic partner._

_Derek half growls at him, but Cora smacks his head, “Of course, best friend.”_

_The emphasis on best friend is obviously meant for the older brother, but Stiles notices the flash of hurt in Isaac’s blue eyes all the same._

_“You know, we should dance as best friends too.” Scott offers and Stiles thinks Scott is talking to him, but Allison’s laugh and murmur of acceptance make it clear that Scott had other plans in mind._

_And now it’s just Derek and Stiles at the table, four and a half feet away from each other, brown eyes looking into hazel-green ones._

_“So uh-” Stiles doesn’t think he’d survive dancing with Derek_

_“I don’t dance.” Derek beats him to it and sighs, “Help me clear off?” He gestures to the empty plates and Stiles nods, relieved to have a function as well as a reason not to look at all the people looking so freaking happy as they dance on the worn out lawn._

_Stiles followed Derek into the kitchen, which has a working refrigerator, despite being covered in sawdust and tarps. He’s not all that surprised to find it mostly full of different meat products._

_“You know man.” Stiles leans against the makeshift sawhorse before standing up straight-that thing is not stable-and looks at Derek who is just looking at him now._

_“What do I know?” Derek asks, raising an eyebrow._

_Stiles swallows, stepping toward him. Not too much, just a few feet, “I uh, I know you don’t like to dance but…” He scowls, “I don’t know where I was going with that. This is hard.” Stiles runs a hand through his head_

_Derek frowns, closing the refrigerator, “Are you trying to get me to dance with you?”_

_“No! No.” Stiles sighed, “I’m trying to get you.”_

_He thinks that it makes sense, but from the way Derek stares at him, Stiles is less certain. He clears his throat,_

_“I uh, I like you man.”_

_“I like you too, Stiles.” Derek’s voice is soft and Stiles looks at him in surprise_

_“Really?”_

_“You’re a good guy.” Derek steps closer, patting him on the shoulder and it’s awkward now. Somehow Stiles feels rejected, “You don’t need to try and understand me. Sometimes it’s hard for me to understand myself.”_

_Stiles frowns, looking at him, “No…I mean, Derek.” Derek’s closer to him now because of the awkward shoulder pat. Stiles should just fucking go for it. Attach his lips to Derek’s lips, run his tongue over his teeth, feel for the grooves and points. How long had Stiles fantasized about that?_

_But he doesn’t exactly know if Derek’s into dudes. There’s a huge gap of non-information right there._

_So kissing his intentions isn’t the best idea, no matter how much Stiles wants to just rub himself all over Derek._

_“I think you’re very attractive and I want you.” Stiles says slowly, feeling like he’s in a bad SNL skit where he doesn’t know the words but it’s supposed to be funny. Yet it’s not funny._

_He can’t help the damn smile on his face. He almost needs to laugh, chokes with the desire to just laugh. Not at Derek, just the awkwardness of the situation. And so, as he watches Derek process the news with little facial reaction, he’s moved by an incredible, insane urge to just laugh._

_But he can’t laugh because Derek will think he’s doing a stupid joke and Stiles tries hard to tamp it down. Really hard._

_“Stiles, you’re a kid.”_

_“I’m eighteen.” Stiles frowns, the bubble of laughter slowly shrinking, thankfully fading. His hands go to bunch up Derek’s shirt. Derek didn’t say, “Stiles, I’m straight.” or even “Stiles, I’m not into you.”_

_His age he could argue with._

_“If you measure in moon years, I’m like twenty something.” Stiles adds._

_“Barely twenty.” Apparently Derek’s already done the calculations, “I’m…older.”_

_Stiles pulls himself closer, “If I was closer in age, would you-”_

_Derek swoops down and kisses him, robbing him of breath._

_It’s not like the fairytale kisses Stiles watches in movies. No, these are Derek’s lips, a firm pressure against his lips, surprisingly moist. That’s Derek’s tongue trying to map all the territories of Stiles’ mouth. This is Derek, contributing significantly to the rising heat that’s weakening Stiles knees. His hands move to Derek’s head, half-checking to make sure this was real._

_Stiles mirrored Derek’s motions: tongues tangling, noses nudging, hands running over soft hair, sometimes gripping. He threw himself into their kiss, eager to please._

 

Stiles walks down, yawning. He’s thrown on an old Superman shirt and some basketball shorts that haven’t been stolen by Archer (a rare find in this house, indeed). 

Puff pads after him, yapping in excitement. Stiles sighs and picks him up, patting Puff idly down the stairs before setting the dog back down. Most of the time, he annoys Stiles but the ungroomed puffball of a poodle really does have his cute moments. 

“I’ll get Derek to take you to a groomers soon and you won’t be such a sad excuse of a poodle, Puff.” Stiles tells him, amused by himself.

He doesn’t realize it at first walking in, distracted by the smell of steak and corn.

“Derek, corn is so starchy. How many times do we have to argue about that? They need more greens.”

“I made mashed carrots too. Sit down.” Derek sets down the bowl of orange mush on the table and Stiles is quick to scoop some on the girls’ plates.

“Stiles, this is my tutor, Esther.”

Stiles looks up at Archer’s introduction to see a pretty blond haired girl smiling at him. She instinctively reminds him of the pretty bubbly sorority girls from college. They all spoke in excited voices and giggled almost too much. Giggling was cute from a seven year old but it confused the hell out of Stiles when they were college aged. There was no way everything was that funny, after all.

“Hi, I’m Stiles.” He smiles, extending a hand and the girl shakes it, her curls bouncing with the movement

“Esther Roman. Nice to meet you.”

“How did Derek know you?” Stiles asked as Derek sits down and cuts Scarlett’s steak while Archer does Rory’s.

“He used to babysit me and my brothers.” She grins, “Taught me how to sink a foul ball perfectly every time.”

“She’s paying back the favor with geometry.” Derek smiles at her, “The Roman pack is near Tahoe in the mountains. Her grandfather decided to retire here because of the fishing so she moved to stay with him.” 

“Ah.” Stiles nods slowly, “You have a pack.” It goes without saying that Esther is a werewolf.

Esther nods cheerfully, “I think Derek and I are distant cousins or something actually. His dad is-was a human from my pack.” She flushes over the present tense flub but Derek doesn’t look terribly affected, just eating some of the carrot mash.

Stiles nods slowly, glancing between them, “Right. And you know geometry?”

“I do.” She smiles widely and the smile throws Stiles off, he’s more used to werewolves looking at him suspiciously, “I’m actually planning to be a middle school math teacher so this works out well.”

“You know I’m a ninth grader right? _Almost_ a sophomore.” Archer stands up straighter as if proving his point and Stiles hides a smile.

“Really, I thought you were at least a junior.” She’s teasing but Stiles doubts Archer realized that from the glow on his face.

He and Derek share an amused grin over the Scott-like smile gracing Archer’s face. 

“So how did Archer do today?”

“He’s great. Just needs to focus, right?” Esther asks Archer directly and he nods eagerly. Stiles suspects Esther could ask Archer to go spend the night in a dumpster and the kid would just nod eagerly at her.

Derek in comparison to Archer is uninterested in Esther. But she’s still a pretty girl and he invited her to dinner, to their family. In fact, he gave her a standing invitation.

“So how old are you?”

Esther shrugs, “In my early twenties. I’m a little older than Moira.”

“Another one of my sisters.” Derek explains, “Esther and Moira were almost a year apart and I was usually stuck as the babysitter.” 

“Attached at the hip too whenever I saw her.” Esther smiles sadly, “We were very close.”

“She was…eight.” Derek added softly, glancing at Rory for a brief moment. Stiles settles his hand on top of Derek’s shoulder, squeezing. It’s a habit of his and he recognizes Derek’s exhale as one of quiet thanks. 

“So you are a beta?” Stiles asked Esther as he pulls his hand back to his lap.

Esther hesitates, “I’m actually in line to be the next alpha.” Her eye flickers over to Derek before she swallows the steak, “This is really good, by the way. I’m jealous.”

“Come for dinner anytime. We enjoy the challenge of extra people.” Derek smiles at her as if he's someone that smiles on a daily basis. Well actually, Derek does smile around the kids, but Stiles can't help but think of pre-kids Derek when he's smiling at  _her_.

“Don’t come on Tuesdays because I’m not here then.” Archer adds quickly and Stiles lets out a burst of laughter. It’s clear that Esther has hooked in Archer McCall with her warm smile and dancing blue eyes.

But what about Derek Hale? 

Stiles took another bite of carrots, frustrated by his line of thoughts. Why should he care anyway? Glancing over at Rory, quietly eating her corn as she waits for a moment to sneak a piece of steak to Panda who is curled around her chair, confident that he’s getting some steak. 

“Ror, Ben thought that you should do an afterschool activity. I know you don’t wanna dance anymore, but how about gymnastics?”

Compared to Scarlett, Rory’s not much of a tumbler, but she does rock a pretty good cartwheel for her age. Legs are straight and she rarely topples over.

Rory makes a face, shaking her head. 

Derek joins in, “Etta, what did you do after school when you were seven?”

_Etta_

Esther pauses in thought as Stiles glances toward Derek in surprise. He doesn’t look Stiles’ way as Esther answers: “Drama club and karate.”

“I did karate too!” Archer pitches in, “It’s a lot of fun.”

“Oh yeah. What color belt are you?”

“White. He quit after they showed him how to chop a block of wood.” Derek informed her, amused, “We have a tape of the chop on the computer. I’ll have to send it to you.”

“Aw, that’s cute.” Esther grins, smiling as Archer blushes again.

“How about karate, Ror?” Derek asks Rory, “You might even be a black belt like Esther.”

“Purple,” She corrects him, shaking her head, “I quit since I wanted to focus more on kickboxing and Capoeira.”

“What’s that?”

“Oh Capoeira is really cool. It’s a combination of dancing, music and karate basically. I love it. Kickboxing is a little more aggressive but both really help me get all my excess energy out.”

“Yeah, our energizer bunny takes gymnastics for that excess.” Derek glances over at Scarlett, “We might have to add another activity when you start kindergarten though, pup.” 

Scarlett claps her hands, “I want to do Cappyra!”

“You should. I teach the beginning classes over at the Y and I know you would be fantastic as my assistant.” She grins at Scarlett who half gasps at this offer.

“Stay forever,” She demands, her eyes wide.

“Please.” Derek jokes, “Female role models aren’t exactly plentiful here, right Stiles?”

Stiles nods, eyes steady on his plate.

Derek smile turns into a frown as he leans toward Stiles, concerned, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just preoccupied. Uh Rory, how about doing Capo-uh, the dancing karate thing?” 

Rory shakes her head in disinterest. Stiles can’t help his grin. 

“How about miming?” Archer proposes, taking a bite of his steak, “She doesn’t need to talk for that.”

Derek glares at Archer, his frown deepening before he smoothed out his face. Derek thinks drawing attention to the fact that Rory doesn’t talk because he thinks it’ll just make her not talk longer.

Rory wrinkles her nose although Stiles thinks it’s actually a pretty good idea. They’d at least be able to figure out what she wants a bit faster. 

“Can we do hairstyling?” Scarlett pipes up before adding to Ether, “We’re gonna be hairdressers, Exter.”

“Esther.” Stiles corrects her mildly, “And that’s not an accredited class for your age group so lets think of another idea.”

“You can call me Etta if you want. And I’d love to go to your hair salon.” Esther smiles at Scarlett. Stiles catches Derek’s fond smile aimed toward them. It’s not affecting him at all. He definitely doesn’t want to go out and smash something. Definitely not _Etta_.

“Come early next time and we’ll do your hair for dinner.” Scarlett jumps up in her booster seat, excited as she admires Esther’s curly blond strands, “We _never_ get to work with long hair…”

“Don’t worry, the scissors are pretend.” Derek stage-whispers, “Like all the professionals do.”

Esther laughs while Stiles stabs at his steak, thinking about growing out his hair this time. Definitely. He’ll have long skateboard-boy locks and then Scarlett will have all the hair she needs.

_Derek shoves him away, “Stiles, no.” He runs a hand through his hair, “I can’t do this to you. I just can’t.”_

_“Why?” Stiles demanded, frowning_

_Derek shook his head miserably, eyes downcast, “It wouldn’t work out. You’re too-we’re in completely different places in our lives. And you’re human, Stiles. I can’t-it never works out.”_

_“Derek,” Stiles starts, stepping toward him._

_“No, Stiles. I mean it.” His eyes flash red, as a hand lightly pushes Stiles away, “I’m not good for you. Not…Not now. Maybe...just not now, Stiles.”_

_He walks off with determination, leaving Stiles in the kitchen with memories of a scorching hot kiss and some seriously red burns from Derek’s stubble._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure you noticed the different style but I thought it'd be interesting to break up those pieces a bit more.
> 
> As for the flash back, after I reveal Derek's POV on the event, I'm actually going to fade those out and just focus on present day.
> 
> Also, I just hit a hundred pages with this chapter which is kind of crazy. The good news, at least, is that I know where it's ending and I hope you guys stick around. Comments are always great.


	8. Unrealistic Expectations (or: End of Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek finds a car repair enthusiast in Rory, it's too bad Stiles isn't as enthusiastic. But at least they can agree that there's some parallels to Archer's current ardor for his math tutor. Pretty steamy/mature in content (if this is actually explicit and not mature, someone give me a heads up? I have no idea what the difference is) compared to previous chapters.

Derek scowls, staring at Stiles’ faded blue Jeep parked out in front of their makeshift driveway. The car still doesn’t run right despite two weekends doing small repairs. But Archer’s determined to have it for when he turns fifteen in eight short months.

And Stiles thinks that Archer and Derek can bond over fixing the Jeep into a decent car.

Derek can’t stop counting how long it’s been since Scott called and asked him if he wanted to come to dinner, Allison and Rory singing some Disney song in the background. It's been six weeks and two days. He's lost track of the hours which is something.

Right now, Archer’s preferred hip-hop is set on low as the two of them hunker under the hood of the jeep, oil streaked on old jeans and ripped shirts.

Scarlett and Cam are in the driveway, the squeak of their training wheels falling in time with the beat of the music. Despite himself, Derek is tapping his fingers to the smooth, vaguely crass lyrics as he considers which problem to tackle for today-the radiator, the headlights or maybe go underneath and deal with the exhaust.

Archer needs constant explanation when it comes to the more intricate repairs, although he’s tops at changing oil or a tire.

“Can we deal with the fan belt?” Archer suggests in the silence, knowing that Derek is mulling his options

Derek frowns. The fan belt is one of the easiest issues facing the car. As a result, Archer will leave fairly quickly to go play basketball at Joey’s.

“We might as well tackle the whole radiator.” Derek says instead, he’d been leaning that way. Archer groans, clearly bored with the exercise of car repair.

“Do you need a monkey?” Scarlett yells out her inquiry, hot pink bike headed toward them while Cam is preoccupied with making a figure eight.

Derek smiles fondly at her. The girls enjoy turning the monkey wrench though he’s not sure where the idea that it made them monkeys came from.

“No thanks, princess. We don’t need any monkeys today.”

Rory walks over, bored of her previous activity (adaisy chain tiara for Panda) and listens as Derek turns back to Archer, pointing out the radiator. He’s noticed on the last two Sundays that Rory likes to listen to him talk about fixing up the Jeep and Archer clears his throat as she comes closer, Derek turning around and smiling wider.

“Rory, come here. You should get a better look at the fan too.”

Rory’s eyes brighten and she practically skips over, letting Derek lift her up.

“Archer, point it out for her?”

Archer points at the wrong fan and much to Derek’s surprise, Rory’s the one that corrects him. Derek laughs and balances her on his hip, ruffling her hair, “How did you know that, pup?”

She just smiles, her mouth curving upward. She’s been smiling more lately. Although Derek's not sure if that's more of a Stiles-worthy smirk than an actual smile.

“Alright,” Derek sets her down, “Go get me my 12 gauge and a Phillips screwdriver.” It’s more of a test than anything else but he’s impressed when she comes back with the right items. Scarlett and Cam usually just pick two things at random while Archer asks for hints.

“Looks like I’ve found my first competent assistant.” He drawls, glancing pointedly at Archer who just rolls his eyes. Rory practically beams as Derek takes the tools from her.

“You know,” Archer glances back at Rory, “Rory should definitely take over for me. I told Joey I’d be at his house in fifteen minutes.”

“That’s fine. I’ll just let Rory have the car.” It’s an empty threat but Derek doesn’t miss the way Rory’s eyes brighten, “I’m kidding, pup.”

Archer laughs, “No worries, I’ll give it to her when she’s fifteen.”

Always the loving brother, Archer pecks her on the forehead, smiling fondly at her look of awe that he'd part so easily with a car that she's clearly come to admire, “We’ll even paint it any color you want, Ror.”

He walks back to the interior garage to grab his bike while Derek glances over to where Scarlett and Cam have abandoned theirs. The two are lying on the ground, staring up at the sky now, surprisingly still. If he listens, he can make out them talking about whether a cloud looks more like a goldfish or a clown.

Tuning them out, Derek smiles at Rory, “Go put on one of my old shirts in the third drawer, sweetie. I don’t want your pretty pink overalls ruined if you're going to be my number one assistant.” Plus it’ll give him time to get the car elevated properly on at least two feet’s worth of cinderblocks.

Rory rushes off to the house, her excitement evident.

Much later in the day, Stiles comes home in the Mom Car as he and Derek call it (Derek has a faded blue truck he uses when he doesn’t have the police car with him). He honks the horn and parks in the front of the house, not minding that the driveway is pretty much littered with car parts, cinderblocks, toys (of the child and dog variety) and sleeping dogs.

Getting out proves to be a challenge for Stiles as both four year olds and dogs crowd Stiles. Derek laughs, plucking Rory out of the car bottom, quickly wiping the smudge of oil off her cheek before smiling at her, “We’re just about done for the day. I need you and your sister to clean up the drive way.”

She makes a slight face but nods her agreement. Glancing back at the car and then him, she smiles broadly and hugs him of her own volition. It’s tight and Derek can’t remember the last time Rory so spontaneously hugged him.

“I love you, pup.” He half whispers, trying not to tear as images of Scott and Allison run through his mind like a fast moving picture slideshow. She smells so much like them it's hard for Derek not to think of them.

“Hey guys! Wow, the car looks like it’s going into heavy duty renovation, huh?” Stiles manages it to their side, kid (and dog) free.

“Yeah. We’re going to need a lot of new parts for this thing. Rory’s been a huge help so far, so that’s great.” Derek stands up as she pulls away, giving Stiles a half hug in greeting.

“Guys, can you put all the toys back where they belong?” Stiles asks the kids, scanning the detritus of the yard, “Is Archer at Joey’s?”

“Yeah. He can only take so much shop talk but Rory really likes it.” Derek shrugs, “So I guess it’ll be a bonding thing for me and Rory.”

Stiles frowns, “Rory?” He scans his car, “Doesn’t it seems a little dangerous? Fumes, sharp parts…something potentially exploding?”

“The fumes aren’t so bad because we’re outside. I don’t let her handle anything unless it’s absolutely safe and it’s highly unlikely anything is going to explode because I know how to fix a car.”

Stiles doesn’t look convinced from the way his hand scratches at his ear, “Ok, I guess. I mean…I trust you.”

There’s a jagged pause and Derek isn’t quite sure what to say, how to reassure Stiles that Rory is going to be perfectly fine.

“Stiles.” Derek hesitates, “Uh, Isaac’s going to be bringing dinner by in like twenty minutes so you have time for a shower. But I want to take the dogs for a run after dinner so can you deal with Scarlett's night-time routine?”

“Yeah.” Stiles nods, “You’ll have to be home in time for tuck-in.”

“I’m not suicidal.” Derek glances toward the younger pair, suddenly aware of their horsing around, “Scarlett! Stop spitting in Cam’s hair and help your sister.”

The high-pitched giggles and other adventures of children cleaning up distract Derek from thinking too much about Stiles' reaction to Rory helping him with car repairs.

_Derek knew what Stiles was up to the minute they ended up alone in the kitchen together. The scent of arousal was at a high, after all._

_But Derek wasn’t really attracted to Stiles or anyone really. Not this time of year._

_Not when it was so damn close to the anniversary of the fire. Any lust he felt was too tinged with guilt and worry. Worry that indulging might lead to another destruction._

_Especially now, with everyone in a good place. The once-teenaged idiots that made up Derek’s pack (human and were alike) were a week away from graduating. The excuse of his birthday served as a broader celebration that they were alive and successfully moving on to the next chapter of their life._

_Lydia would be going to Caltech and Jackson at nearby USC. They weren’t ‘officially’ together by any means, but Derek’s nose knew more about Jackson’s intentions toward Lydia than Lydia (for once)._

_Scott was going the furthest away, deep into the Southwest where flip-flops were worn year-round and lacrosse scholarships made a serious dent in his tuition. Derek doubted he’d ever visit University of Arizona and hoped Scott might transfer back in-state, at the very least._

_Allison, interestingly, would be attending UC Berkeley. She and Scott hadn’t been an official couple in forever, but they had their moments. Like tonight, dancing outside on the lawn. Derek was certain that Scott would reach some kind of epiphany and transfer to be close to Allison. Derek hoped for that at the very least, though it was odd for him to regard Allison as an advantage for his pack._

_“You know man-” Derek sighs, turning around to see that Stiles has followed him in. Stiles who is going to UCLA, exactly six and a half hours away. Such a distance is far enough away to lose any scent of Stiles within two months._

_He’s also well enough aware that Stiles is determined to sleep with him. After prom, Derek had made the mistake of talking to Danny (in a misguided effort to try and promote Stiles) when Stiles seemed like he was moping around._

_Danny, much to his surprise, had confided that he was in a complicated relationship with Ethan and that Stiles was much more interested in just losing his virginity. Or at least, that’s how Danny saw it, claiming that a large number of Stiles conversations centered around being a virgin on a college campus._

_And so, there it was. Derek was well aware that Stiles saw him as a means to an end, just like her. Even if it wasn’t for such a twisted-up reason like burning an entire pack alive. No, he’s just a teenager acting like a teenager. All the same, it twists Derek up._

_“What do I know?” Derek isn’t sure how to repel Stiles, who is so used to ignoring Derek’s usual signals of ‘Leave me the fuck alone.’_

_Of course Stiles has to walk toward him, his honey-brown eyes attracting the attention of Derek’s despite himself, “I uh, I know you don’t like to dance but…”_

_Derek raises an eyebrow as Stiles’ face furrows into a scowl, shaking his head, “I don’t know where I was going with that. This is hard.” One of his long tapered fingers runs loosely through his messy brown hair, which he hasn’t really bothered to style. Or has he? Derek can’t really tell._

_He closes the open refrigerator, trying to impress a heavy frown on the young (young!) boy, “Are you trying to get me to dance with you?” Derek even manages to let a little fang through, but that just causes the scent of arousal to ratchet up and he groans._

_“No, no!” Stiles waves his arms, looking upset, “I’m trying to get you.” He smiles brightly and Derek’s heart breaks a bit. So it’s true, Stiles wants him to punch his card._

_“I uh, I like you man.” God this is painful. Derek wants badly to get out of it. He wonders if being coy will stop Stiles from making another overture._

_“I like you too.”_

_“Really?”_

_“You’re a good guy.” Derek forces himself to step closer, ignore the strong waft of ardor coming off Stiles, practically inviting Derek to inhale him whole, “You don’t…need to try and understand me. Sometimes it’s hard for me to understand myself.”_

_There, done. He even manages an awkward shoulder pat. But, weirdly, they’re closer together now, just a matter of inches between their faces._

_“No…” Stiles frowns at him, his eyes blinking with confusion, “I mean, Derek.” Stiles looks at him, scanning Derek’s intentionally blank face as if trying to figure something out, “I think you’re very attractive and I want you.”_

_Derek didn’t think Stiles ever had the guts to say something like that and it does something funny to him. He can’t even help himself when his dick twitches just a bit. After all, it’s not everyday that someone tells Derek they want him._

_“Stiles, you’re a kid.” Derek’s heart is beating loudly, he can’t even hear Stiles’, too preoccupied with his own. He can’t sleep with this kid. It won’t be good for either of them._

_Stiles frowns at that, “I’m eighteen. If you measure in moony years…” His hands are on Derek’s shirt, fisting the fabric in an attempt to force attention on himself but Derek’s not paying attention, too focused on controlling himself, “Like twenty-something.”_

_“Barely twenty. I’m…” Derek’s choking with the need to kiss him, claim him. And he can’t claim a damn eighteen-year-old that’s going to go to college and proceed to sleep with other people. No, he can’t, “Older.”_

_And now Stiles is plastering his chest against Derek’s, their noses close together, “If I was closer in age, would you-”_

_Derek’s actually pretty surprised he managed to let Stiles get that much out. The young boy was too damn close and Derek was too damn aware of that milky white skin almost touching his, just separated by layers of clothing._

_And now he was kissing Stiles, his wolf happily content to lazily explore the confines of Stiles’ mouth as the clenching in his stomach tightens and he feels warmth spreading all over his body. Stiles is quick to join, his hands running over Derek’s hair, making these damn noises-not quite a moan or a gasp but somewhere in between._

_Derek yanks himself away, Stiles looking dazed. Damn, he never should’ve lost control like that._

Derek grins as he hands Esther her jacket, “He told you about his quiz grade last week, right?”

“Couldn’t stop smiling.” Esther grins back at him, shrugging on the corduroy jacket, “I think it helps him, having someone go over it one on one.” She hesitates, adjusting the sleeve of her jacket, “I’ve noticed he doodles a lot in the margins of his notes.”

“That’s pretty normal.”

“Skulls and bones. Sometimes a Grim Reaper.” Esther’s voice is nearly breathless, her blue eyes darting over to the kitchen, though she knew that no one could hear them.

Derek nods once, scratching the back of his neck, “He's processing. It’s been six weeks since he lost his parents. He’s in a grief group and we’re talking to him.”

Esther nods, smiling again, “Good." It falters a bit before she adds, "Should I be worried by how attached he is to me?”

Derek sighed, trying to figure out a response. Thankfully, the doorbell rang, saving him from guessing what she wanted him to do about an adolescent boy’s fantasies.

“Hang on.” Derek turns around, opening the door with a smile. Scarlett and Cam are hanging off Isaac like monkeys.

“I’m HOME!” Scarlett announces her own fanfare as Isaac lets her down. She claps, spotting the pretty blond, “Etta's here!”

“I am!” Esther smiles, bending down as Scarlett rushes to give her a hug. Isaac sets Cam down, one hand on his son’s blond hair as he tenses.

“You have a guest, Derek?” It’s apparent that Isaac’s picked up Esther’s supernatural scent

“Yeah, this is Archer’s math tutor, Esther. Esther, this is Isaac, my second.”

“Always nice to meet a members of Hale Pack.” Esther smiles, walking over to shake Isaac’s hand, Scarlett having run off to tell Stiles all about her day. Glancing down, Esther smiles even more brightly at the little boy half hiding under his father’s broad hand, looking at her curiously.

“And hello to you. I’m Esther.”

“I’m Camden Lahey.” Cam takes a step toward her, cautiously sniffing, “You’re a werewolf.”

“As much of a werewolf as you are.” Esther grins, putting a hand on her hip, “I bet you run really fast, huh?”

Cam puffs up, reminding Derek a bit of Isaac, “Really fast.” He turned to his father, lips curled up, “Not as fast as Daddy.”

“Someday you will be.” Isaac tells him with a soft smile aimed toward Esther, and Derek recognizes the intrigued look in Isaac's face as he continues, “Careful, my boy's a sucker for pretty faces like yours.”

“I’ve already got one of those.” Esther glances at Derek meaningfully before turning to smile at Isaac though tension has grown, “I’m late for a date with my old man. I’ll see you soon, Derek.” She claps her hand on Derek’s shoulder before leaving everyone, a sunny smile on her face.

“Bye!” Cam blurts out, waving. Esther smiles indulgently at him as Derek closes the door behind her.

“I like her” Cam informs Isaac in full sincerity, his voice loud, “More than Lauren, Daddy.”

Isaac quirks one brow, “Sorry, short-fry, I’m dating Lauren. Plus, you haven’t even met Lauren.” He gives a long-suffering sigh before turning to Derek, “Is it okay if we stay for dinner? I can already smell the chicken casserole.”

“Stay.” Derek clapped a hand on Isaac’s shoulder, “Might be awkward since I have to figure out a way to Archer to stop lusting after his math tutor.”

“Oh cool, I might have to give Cam that speech someday so it’ll be good to see your version.” Isaac jokes, smiling at Cam, "You hear that bud? No falling in love with your tutors."

"Gotcha. Can I have some juice?"

“Yes, you may.” Derek tells Cam as they all walk into the kitchen. Stiles is stationed behind Scarlett (sitting on the barstool), the two of them laughing as they awkwardly toss a salad, while Rory sets the table.

“Rory, set two more plates.” Derek calls and Stiles looks up, smiling. The salad tossing gets a little convoluted now that Scarlett has more control, but she's clearly trying, tip of her tongue stuck out in concentration.

“Hey, Whammy Cam, how’s tricks?” Stiles asks as Derek hands the blond boy a grape juice box.

“I still don't have any tricks.” Cam giggles as he always does, “Esther is really nice.”

“She is” Stiles' smile is close lipped as he glances at Derek, “I think she’s generally liked by all in this household, no?”

“I would agree.” Derek takes two beers out of the fridge, handing one to Isaac as Stiles takes a swig from his, already opened some time ago, “Though I do think some like her more than others.”

“A lot more.” Stiles smiles in amusement

“Archer’s a teenager attracted to all the pretty faces.” Isaac takes a piece of the salad before Stiles can smack his hand away, grinning, “I wouldn’t worry.”

“I guess,” Stiles sighs, sneaking a glance at Derek, “But there’s a part of me that think he has some kind of…unrealistic expectation.”

Derek frowns, hiding it with his beer. He has a feeling somehow that Stiles is referring obliquely to him, but neither man bothers to pick up that strand of conversation as Camden asks for croutons on the side.

_Derek was awake that night, staring up at the ceiling. For some reason, all he could see in the bumps of the dim ceiling were moles. Familiar ones that made up a unique constellation._

_And that lead him to thinking about those damn sideburns, the small dent on Stiles’ left ear, barely noticeable, the small hairs on the nape of his neck, which grew thicker with red highlights up his skull. It was so damn silky, Derek always thought it’d be more gunky than silky._

_But now he knew and that sort of made it worse. He knew the feeling of his stubble running over Stiles’ baby-soft cheeks, the tender touch of his lips as the young boy experimentally pressed back, tongue eager to explore._

_That damn tongue, Derek couldn’t stop thinking about it and now his hand was palmed over his dick, acting as a poor replacement. His breath caught as he recalled the soft noises Stiles made, long tapered hands running all over his face, as if trying to memorize the location of each and every stubble mark on Derek’s jawline._

_He was hard now, almost aching for Stiles. Derek half growled, angry with himself for indulging. He shouldn’t be thinking like this. Not for some stupid kid. So with some determination, he pulled his hand off and schooled himself to think of other things. Isaac’s feet, Scott going lovestruck over Allison, the time he walked in on his parents rubbing each other-ah that did it._

_But then he looked up at the ceiling and these damn moles crossed his mind as his hand snaked back down past his abdomen, knowing that it’d been futile to even try._

_So tonight, he gave in and with a hoarse shout, he found release with his right hand. But tomorrow night and every other night, it was going to be a different damn story if Derek had anything to say about it._

 

Stiles accepts the last wet plate from Derek, humming softly as he dries it. Derek can’t help but watch Stiles’ fingers holding the towel, elegant even when they were half pruned by the soapy dishwater.

Ugh, his thoughts. Derek scowls at how maudlin he sounds.

“I think Archer understands that Esther isn’t going to be his girlfriend.” Derek comments

“Me too.” Stiles agrees, nodding, “It probably helps that we told him that point-blank.”

Derek laughs, looking sheepish, “Didn’t hurt to tell him straight.”

“Yeah.” Stiles nods, “I was worried, you know. Older people are…attractive.”

Derek sighs, “I’m very aware of that.” A flash of blond hair goes through his mind, designer perfume filling up uncomfortably in his nose and he sniffs to try and dissipate the strong memory Kate left behind.

“Right,” Stiles nods, “Right, you would be. Does Archer know about Kate?”

Derek shrugs, “I’ll tell him someday if he asks.”

Stiles nods jerkily, “It’s a good thing he’s not older, like seventeen. I sort of developed a complex, convinced that if I waited a year, everything I wanted would fall in place.”

“Didn’t it?” Derek looked at him, blinking in surprise, “You got the girl when you were seventeen.” At least that’s what he knew from the gossip about Stiles and Lydia back then.

Stiles lets out a bark of laugh, “If you mean Lydia, I guess. But I don’t think it counts when I realized I didn’t want to get the girl.”

“Wait.” Derek turns off the water, looking over at Stiles as it dawns on him with shock, “You waited for me.”

It’s not a question, it’s fact.

Stiles colored, “Not that I ever really admitted it to anyone, including me. But I think a part of myself wanted to wait for you. Can you blame me, being so attracted to a studly werewolf like yo-you were?” He coughs nervously, his cheeks pinking.

Derek sighs, “You meant that I was your older guy that gave you unrealistic expectations.”

“Yeah and you turned me down.” Stiles’ eyes are bright but his smile is more forced than not, “Which was good. I shouldn’t have acted like a shit toward you all summer.” He’s trying to joke, but Derek can hear the sincerity underneath, the nervousness in his heart.

“Not just all summer. Pretty much until Allison had Archer.” Derek reminds him before adding, “Thank you. I didn’t want…” he sighed, “I didn’t want to hurt you, Stiles. That was never my intention.”

“No.” Stiles sighs and before Derek can blink, Stiles is hugging him tightly, his nose tucked neatly into Derek’s neck, his voice muffled, “You’re great, Der.” He pulls away, sniffing, “And now we’re in a good place unlike all of your other romantic partners, right?”

Derek scowls and splashes a little of the leftover water draining from the sink on Stiles who just laughs. Happy to retaliate, Stiles is quick to yank the sprayer and sets it on Derek who half roars in surprise from the blast of hot water.

Half trembling with the need to laugh, Stiles can’t help but smile, “Now you’re all set to bathe Scarlett.”

Derek shakes his head all over Stiles, eyes narrowed as he stalks out. All the same, the look of affection in Stiles’ brown eyes leave Derek feeling oddly warm in his chest. Not to mention the mild lust that flared up as Stiles’ glance went to Derek’s soaked shirt. He might not be as ripped as he was fifteen years ago, but he still had some fairly decent definition.

Although he was definitely slacking on gym visits. But with three kids and Stiles around, Derek barely had any time to jerk off.

Somehow he found the time though. He definitely wasn’t short on inspiration thanks to a certain co-parent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a little shorter compared to other chapter but I'm really happy about this one because it's the end of Part I (which was very slow going)!
> 
> The next six chapters make up Part II and each chapter corresponds to a month. The last six or so were March so I'm delighted to shift to another month instead of frigid, depressing March. Also, what's coming up has some really awesome moments that I think you guys will be happy you stuck around to see.
> 
> I could break this up into three different stories but I thought it'd be easier to do as one whole thing and (I pray) the whole thing isn't more than 200 pages total (I really really hope, I do).
> 
> Anyway, thanks to Mulder200 and DeannaEmrys for commenting on different chapters. It's nice to know I have regulars now! And thanks to everyone for generally commenting or leaving kudos, I'm always amazed when I get a few.


	9. Part II: April

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> April is a month of adjustments as the kids get closer and bond with Stiles and Derek who continue to struggle with their own bond.

Stiles chuckles as he admires a picture of a four year old that Jo, the RN gives him and returns it. She smiles and puts the new picture next to others of her family before turning back to where Stiles was filling out patient notes.

“So yeah, Mason’s great. I’m still a little worried about my daughter. She’s freaking out because she doesn’t have a boyfriend and all her friends do. Personally, I think fourteen is too young and she should wait until she’s sixteen, minimum.”

“Well…” Stiles sighs, thinking of Archer before nodding, “Yeah, me too.” Hell, the way he felt, he half wanted Archer to do a pre-arranged marriage after finishing college.

“How are your kids, Dr. Stilinski?” Jo smiles, standing up straighter, “Any exciting teen drama on your end?”

Stiles blinks before smiling at the thought- _My kids_. “Not too much angst. Archer’s on varsity baseball so that’s occupying him, I think. Rory…” Stiles taps his pen, thinking about quiet Rory, “She smiles more.”

Granted, it’s usually when she’s watching Cars or helping Derek work on Stiles’ jeep. Stiles isn’t sure what to make of Rory’s interest in cars, given that her parents died in a car accident.

“She makes noises. Car noises. It’s something.” Stiles shrugs, trying to stop himself from calling Dr. Nussbaum to see what the symptom about Rory’s state of mind.

“Oh Mason’s in the same stage, especially when he’s playing with Hotwheels.” The nurse smiles, “Maybe we should playdate. I always worry about Mason since he doesn’t have a lot of socializing experience.”

“Oh I’m the same way about-”

Stiles is cut off by the presence of Dr. Kendricks at the RN desk. As the hospital chief, he was the most powerful figure in the hospital. He was also well aware that Stiles was almost grossly overqualified to work as a doctor in a small, nearly bucolic hospital, which barely had any real trauma patients. Certainly not enough to justify keeping the small ER open after the hospital had to go through extensive repairs and reconstruction almost sixteen years ago.

Even if Allison had survived the trip to BH Memorial, Stiles doubts that they could’ve stabilized her enough for proper transfer to a larger hospital.

“Stiles, I’ll need you in the clinic today.” Dr. Kendricks says quietly, eyes on his own folders, “I’ve gotten nothing but glowing commendations on your bedside manner.”

“Of course.” Stiles sighs, flipping his binder shut as he slides it over to the nurse. He doesn’t mind the clinic too much but he misses the rush of his pediatric surgery cases, to be honest. Beacon Hills Memorial doesn’t get a lot of trauma cases, especially now that the ER is no longer operating (in order to allocate funds toward the free clinic and maternity care).

The interesting, hardcore cases that used to be Stiles’ bread and butter are shipped off to San Francisco hospitals where they have the confidence, funding _and_ technology to make a difference.

Stiles walked into the clinic, double-checking the white lab coat to make sure he grabbed the right name. Sure enough, there’s a S. STILINSKI in neat curlicue just above the coat pocket.

“Hey Stiles, here you go.” The receptionist at the desk smiles at him as she hands over a red folder.

Stiles flips it open, calling out: “Gallagher, Au-” He stops in surprise, double checking, “Aubrey.”

“Hey, Dr. Stilinski.” Aubrey, a red haired girl that Stiles vaguely recalls from Archer’s group of friends, smiles awkwardly at him, “Um,” She fiddles with the strap of her messenger bag, “You’re Archer’s other dad, right?”

“Guardian.” Stiles corrects, glancing behind her at the semi-crowded waiting room, “Is there a parent here with you?”

He has to ask even though he knows that she’s alone.

Eyes wide with something like fear, she shakes her head, lips pursed tightly. “Mom thinks I’m at a friend’s house.” Aubrey bites her lip, looking younger than she’s trying to convey with her heavy mascara and  “I-I think I’m pregnant.”

Her eyes are so…big and for a second all Stiles can see are _Archer’s_ blue eyes. The look in Scott’s face when he said Allison was expecting. He’s gotten pregnant teenage girls before of course. But every time, without fail, that look of almost blank despair on their faces never fails to make him think of Scott. But he knows for a fact that Archer has nothing to do with this disaster (thank every deity for that).

“Lets uh, get you checked out.” Stiles mutters, feeling winded and uncomfortable. After all, she may have announced it sotto voce, but they’re still in a waiting room and it’s pretty evident that young Aubrey isn’t exactly in the best situation for a pregnancy.

She begins to cry as she sits on the doctor’s chair and Stiles plucks out a few tissues.

“So have you taken a pregnancy test, sweetie?” He awkwardly pats her on the knee, his mind still clouded with thoughts of Scott and Allison over that summer, trying to get over the shock.

Bethany shook her head, shredding the damp tissue, “I was supposed to have my period three weeks ago…and we only did it _once_ without a condom. He-” She sniffs, “He makes me so crazy in a really good way.”

Stiles nods, making a note in her file even though his hand is shaking and it comes out looking more like a scribble, “Well, lets get that…your pregnancy confirmed first. And then we can discuss…” He half-swallows, setting down his pen as he smiles shakily at her, “uh, discuss your options.”

She nods, her eyes looking so impossibly large, “You won’t tell my mom?”

“Right now, we’re just going to find out for sure.” Stiles tells her soothingly, “Sweetie, you’re what? Fifteen?”

“Seventeen.” Bethany wipes her nose, mouth in a thin line, “But I’m due for a growth spurt.”

Stiles hopes she only grows vertically and not horizontally. He orders the test and hands her a cup, wanting badly to call Derek or-well, _Derek_. After all, this is the girl that Archer adores, clear as the red hair on her head.

A few afternoons later, Stiles sees Aubrey again, smiling and laughing with her friends as if she had never had a pregnancy scare. No, they were all just sharing a blanket on an expanse of lawn, pointing at the different baseball players.

“Coach Stiles?” Stiles dragged his eyes away from his surreptitious spying on Aubrey Gallagher to smile at Scarlett.

She’s peering through a pair of plastic purple binoculars covered in ladybug stickers. She was going through an insect-collecting phase, which Stiles supported as long as it stayed outside. Derek didn’t care as long as it wasn’t in his food or discussed as a potential food source.

Scarlett usually gets stuck having to go with Derek to baseball practices and games (Jackson was short an assistant coach and Derek agreed to do him a solid, from what Stiles could understand). For some reason, she got in the habit of calling them Coach Stiles and Coach Derek. Stiles thought

“What’s up, Scarvin’ Marvin?” Stiles leans back so he can rest his elbows on the top bleacher, smiling as she laughs at his silly nickname. The stands are mostly empty since most spectators prefer to use their lawnchairs.

“Which one is Archer” Scarlett pouts, setting down the binoculars as her brown eyes scan the field, “And where’s Coach Derek?”

Stiles chuckles, pointing out Archer who cut a sharp figure in white pants and a red pinstripe jersey.

“Archer is shortstop, so he’s between these two bases. And Derek is in the dugout, right there. Look, we’ll wave and he’ll wave back.” Stiles tells her, knowing that Derek can probably hear them. Sure enough, there’s a flash of green in Stiles’ direction followed by a small smile as Scarlett waves frantically, Derek’s returning wave much more restrained, almost queenly.

Stiles pulls Scarlett to him, pressing a kiss to her head in amusement as the pitcher strikes out the batter and the inning ends. Scarlett yells out to Archer, waving just as excitedly and he pulls off his hat, waving back. A few of his friends notice and wave as well, laughing. Archer gives them a half-hearted punch, not really caring.

“I like Archer’s friends.” Scarlett informs him importantly, her binoculars jammed back on her face, “Expecially-”

“ _Es_ pecially.” Stiles corrects her quietly. Scarlett’s lisp has been improving, but she still has a tough time with the softer sounds.

Scarlet makes a face, fangs glinting briefly before she speaks again, “Especially Graham. Joey’s nice too but he doesn’t give me horsey rides.”

“I don’t think I’ve even met Graham.” Stiles comments, scanning the field. He can make out Archer, and he recognizes Joey, a common enough sight around the McCall-Stilinski-Hale household, who usually stands out with his uncommonly tall height of six feet and a shock of red hair. Being just 14, Stiles was pretty sure that the kid would end up six foot five if not more.

“The one wavin’ to Pretty Aubrey.” Scarlett points out a dark skinned boy waving. Sure enough, Aubrey returns it with an even brighter smile and Stiles wonders if Graham knows about the scare. Probably not.

“Archer doesn’t like him anymore because he likes Aubrey more.” Scarlett tells Stiles importantly, as if they’re discussing nuclear bomb codes or the US immigration issue.

“How do you know that?”

“Good ears.” Scarlett smiles matter of factly, “I hear lots of things. Like sometimes I wake up at night and I can hear you saying D-”

“ _Okay_ Princess Puff,” Stiles turns red. He’s well aware of what his dreams (for the most part) consist of and it isn’t exactly G rated, “ _You_ shouldn’t be listening so much.”

“I know.” Scarlett lets out a heavy sigh, “Coach Derek tells me that _all_ the time.” She rolls her eyes, half pouting. Ugh, she’s far too cute for a four year old, especially with the puppy-adorable gene from Scott.

“We just want to keep your pretty nose out of trouble.” Stiles informs with genuine affection, glancing over to where Derek is half-frowning at them before he turns away.

Stiles sighs, giving Derek a half-hearted shrug. They were trying, that’s all he could say.

 

He’s still trying a day later when he’s stuck with Rory and Derek’s on shift. Stiles feels guilty as he knocks on his dad’s door, Rory next to him with her hand clasped firmly in his. She darts around, frowning. The kids don’t usually come with him to his dad’s place after all. 

John opens the door with a smile, “Stiles, this is a surprise. And _hello_ Rory.” His eyes crinkle as he bends down and she gives him a hug, revealing a newly gapped smile.

“Someone lost a tooth!” John declares, grinning, “Did the tooth fairy get you anything good?”

Rory holds up two five crumpled dollar bills, her eyes bright. John glances over at his sheepish son who explains, “It turns out that two tooth fairies came by because they were so excited to have Rory’s tooth and decided to share.”

Derek had left the money, assuming the tooth had fallen somewhere. Stiles had it in his underwear drawer, not really sure what to do. John just laughs and stands up,

“Well, come in. Do you want tea or-?”

“Actually Dad-” Stiles starts as he walks in with Rory. She skips off, throwing down her backpack to make a playspot in front of the couch, ESPN playing on television.

Stiles’ phone buzzes before he can finish his sentence. That’ll be the hospital.

“Dad, I’m sorry. I swear, I don’t usually have emergencies come up but there’s a nine year old with a stomach rupture and they want me to do it since I have more experience than the on-call guy and there’s not enough time to get the kid to the nearest City hospital.”

John sighs, smiling, “That’s fine. You’re a rock star in the OR, son.” He hesitates, “I have my…friend coming over. You guys should meet.”

Stiles’ smile falters, “Oh Dad, that sounds great but…” He shakes his head, “It’s at least a six hour surgery. Derek’s off shift in two hours and he’s taking care of the night routine for the kids. I’m just going to crawl into bed.” Stiles pauses, “ _But_ tomorrow, I just have Scarlett and Cam. Come out to breakfast with us and bring…her.”

“I’ll ask her.” John glances over and smiles, seeing Rory watch the television avidly, “Looks like I can get this one into sports too.”

Stiles follows his gaze, heart clenching a bit as he realizes that ESPN is showing highlights from a NASCAR race.

“Actually Dad, I don’t want her watching racing stuff.” Stiles explains softly, raking a hand through his hair, “So uh, just flip it to baseball or whatever. Nothing with the potential car crashes.”

John’s eyes soften, “Oh.” He sighs and nods, “Yeah, of course. Go have fun, son. Rory, say good bye to Stiles.”

She turns around and gives him a happy wave, albeit a bit distracted as the television reclaims her attention. Stiles smiles sadly, thinking of how Allison would always twist around and wave at him and Scott when she was halfway toward leaving. Scott always gave a pathetic sigh.

Getting back into the car, Stiles dials Dr. Nussbaum before he pulls out. Maybe the recent obsession with cars is more harmless than he thinks. Derek doesn’t seem worried about it at any rate. And granted, she does make more noises. 

 

~

 

Derek inhales deeply, sighing with satisfaction. The April full moon is one of his favorites, signaling the beginning of spring after a hard frost. And this frost had been particularly hard. 

“Which Moon Day is it?” Scarlett asks from her coloring spot on the island. Derek turns around from his gaze outside the window, where three of their dogs are frolicking happily against the twilight gleam. 

“Pink Moon.”

Scarlett’s eyes widen and she declares, “That’s the _prettiest_ moon.” She selects a pink crayon to draw a huge circle at the top of her blank page. Derek is sure that it’ll also get filled out with stars and scribbled blobs of different wolves painstakingly labeled.

Stiles comes in, giving Scarlett an absentminded kiss on the forehead. He’s been more tactile around Scarlett lately and Derek chalks that up to telling Stiles about how Scarlett needs reinforcement through touch. There really is something to this talking-as-parents thing.

“I just dropped off Rory and Archer at the grandparents. Dad’s got plans with _Diane_.”

Derek glances over at him, not really sure how to react. Stiles gets in a weird mood when the topic shifts to John’s lady friend. Derek had actually met Diane a few times since she owned the bakery on Third, but had never really realized that John was seeing her. As far as he knew, Diane made the best black coffee on this side of town and the powdered donut holes weren’t bad either.

Stiles sighs, “Do you like her?”

Derek lifts his shoulder, not really sure what to say, “I like her food.”

“I like her.” Scarlett announces, not one to let her opinion go unvoiced, “She gave me hot chocolate with extra whipped cream.”

“She did.” Stiles smiles at her, “Do you want some hot chocolate right now? We have the pink mini marshmallows you like.”

“Yes.” Scarlett smiles, “It’s the Pink Moon so that’s perfect.”

“Make two.” Derek adds as Stiles goes to warm up milk, “Isaac’s dropping off Cam any minute. He’ll want some.”

“Hot chocolate for everyone.” Stiles smiles, “That’ll get everyone nice and sleepy, right?” He glances over at Scarlett who is caught up in her picture.

“Some more than others.” Derek leans against the counter, watching Stiles fiddle with the stove, “My mom used to do that-make hot chocolate for the kids before the full moon rose.”

“Smart mom.”

“Yeah.” Derek sighs as the bell rings and the dogs start barking like crazy. Well the three that are home anyway. Panda’s with Rory, her ever loving guard-dog and Puff was sent there as well since Derek was always mildly worried that the kids might mistake Puff for a rabbit or something.

“I got that.” Derek pats Stiles lightly between the blades of his back, not even thinking twice about the touch as he shrugs past to open the door for Isaac and Cam. The huge hounds follow him, more on alert. The stronger edge of werewolf never failed to put them on edge, even the chill Barry who didn’t blink an eye when kids pulled his tail or tugged at his ears.

“Settle down,” Derek tells them off-handedly. He doesn’t expect Cam to just rush in, scrambling to greet Scarlett in the kitchen. Surprised, he looks at Isaac who smiles sheepishly.

“Sorry. Cam’s a handful on these nights. It’s like sugar overload plus tornado basically.” He ruffles the back of his neck awkwardly, “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay too? Bring back old times?”

Usually, Derek hosted a small pack dinner followed by a run. Isaac and Jackson were pretty good about coming with their kids. Scott came sometimes with Scarlett, but not often because Scarlett preferred to be closer to Allison’s scent, as did Scott.

Derek nods. Jackson had asked to come at baseball practice the other day too. He refused though, since Stiles was there and Stiles made everything so damn volatile. But hopefully this moon would convince Stiles to just stay away and wait.

“Next moon. I don’t want Stiles around adult werewolves like us. Anything could happen.” Derek sighs, “So go hang out with Jackson and the baby. Esther says she’s going to drop by there too with her grandfather. Next moon, I’ll host. Promise.”

Isaac nods, “I’ll come by tomorrow morning for Cam if I can manage to move.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Derek squeezes Isaac softly on the arm, “Cam’s in good hands. Just run off the nerves.” He hesitates, “Come in for hot chocolate, you don’t need to rush off. There’s a good hour or so before the full moon really takes effect.”

Isaac gives him a hesitant smile, “Hot chocolate sounds good, but uh, I’ll just get more anxious and that won’t be good for Cam. He feeds off my anxiety.” Isaac sighs, slapping Derek on the arm, “See you soon, Derek. Tell Stiles to keep a wide berth around my boy.”

Derek shakes his head as he closes the door, walking back to the kitchen. The kids are slurping their hot chocolate and Derek freezes as he sees Stiles with a patch of chocolate milk clinging to his upper lip.

Damn that Stiles.

Derek wordlessly hands him a napkin, turning to the kids, “How’d that picture turn out, princess?”

Scarlett beams, holding up her picture. There’s a large pink circle in the middle, with a black brown blob. He can make out red eyes and sharp teeth, but not much else, “I drawed the pink moon and you’re smiling lots.”

“Of course he is.” Stiles grins, glancing over at Derek, “I’ll go lock the dogs in the basement. Is there anything else you need me to do before?”

Derek shakes his head, “Just make sure they have water and that the dog door is closed. I have a feeling we might need to take the kids on a small run.”

Stiles nods slowly, scratching the back of his head, “Okay. I’ve got this.” He pats Derek again and Derek realizes that Stiles missed a spot. There’s a small patch of brown just in the corner of his mouth, partially covering one of his more endearing freckles.

Before Derek can really stop himself, he takes his thumb and wipes it. Stiles blinks in surprise before leaning closer. Then he laughs half to himself and draws back,

“Uh thanks.”

Derek can smell the potent attraction and tamps it down tightly.

“Coach Derek, I want to play hide and seek.” Scarlett announces, pushing the drawing away.

Derek pauses in thought before sighing. He’s given up on getting her to just call him Derek again. “Fine. I’ll be it.”

Stiles grins, “I’m a fantastic hider. Watch out, Der.”

The kids are already off their chairs as Derek calls out, “Fifteen!”

“What, fifteen _seconds_?” Stiles scowls as the kids run off, “That’s no time!”

“Go hide Stiles.” Derek flashes him a smile as he inhales again, keeping track of the kids, “Fourteen!” They’re both on the second floor and he can even hear Cam giggling quietly. The scent of Stiles though, is all wrapped up with the smell of spring and it makes him want to inhale more, “Thirteen.”

Stiles sighs, walking off to try and find a spot. Derek can tell that he’s in the laundry room closet but spares him by going upstairs first to root out the kids. They’ll have more fun scenting Stiles out anyway.

 

As the night continues, the kids tucker out surprisingly quickly. Usually Scarlett’s going batshit crazy until about three AM. This time though, she’s contentedly curled around Cam, the two of them _snuggling_ in Derek’s bed. Stiles suggested it since he thought the scent of their alpha might help them. 

Stiles yawns beside him, blinking, “This was better than I thought.”

Derek nods, frowning as he spots a scratch on Stiles’ arm, “You have a scratch.”

Stiles glances down and rubs it himself, “Oh yeah, just a scar, nothing to worry about. I’ll go-uh handle it.” He smiles fondly at the kids lumped together, “They’re anchoring, right?”

Derek shrugs, gazing at the two angelic faces. It’s hard to believe that just hours ago, they were shaking with claws extended and struggling to contain their impulses to lash out and inflict pain (in an effort to try and stop the pain of shifting). But it’d been a much more successful moon transition than last month’s, that was for sure.

“Yeah. Not sure if it’s me or each other. Either way, it’s good. They feel reassured and covered with pack.” Derek sighs, “Lets get to bed. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

“Yeah, okay.” Stiles makes to leave but Derek yanks him back,

“On full moon nights, everyone crashes on the same bed. Take Scarlett’s side. I’m going to shower first.” Derek yawns again, scratching his head as he enters the bathroom.

After the quickest shower known to man (and werewolf), he returns to find Stiles fast asleep, his mouth open with drool coming out. Scarlett’s head is half on his arm while Cam has pulled away almost entirely, curling into himself. They’re so damn cute, Derek can’t help the fond smile on his face. Especially with the way the moonlight dances over Stiles, making his already pale skin nearly chalky and his collection of birthmarks are shown to impressive contrast.

“Good night.” Derek whispers quietly as he gets in the bed, dropping a kiss on Rory and Cam. Hesitating, he allows himself, his wolf, really, to softly stroke the side of Stiles’ lean face before falling asleep, wrapped up in the smell of strawberry L’Oreal, wet dog, and Stiles.

He wonders briefly about the best time to tell Stiles that he bought racing tickets for Rory. The event is next week and Derek _knows_ Stiles won’t like it.

 

Somehow, a week comes and goes without Derek mentioning the damn thing. There were opportunities, of course, but Derek didn’t have the heart to see Stiles frown so hard, especially when they were getting along so well. It wasn’t exactly a secret that Stiles didn’t understand Rory’s newfound fascination with cars.

Derek didn’t think Rory’s latest phase was evidence of anything particularly harmful. Stiles disagreed, watching Rory like a hawk when she was playing with Archer’s old track or coloring cars.

Stiles even brought up the issue with Ben during their monthly Parent/Teacher Conference. Ben nodded in sympathy, adding that Rory strongly preferred car games over the other options in their play therapy sessions. He suggested it was a form of control for Rory and a necessary part of her grieving. They, as her guardians, should support her. Stiles had given him a fake smile and Derek was comforted by the thought that at least Stiles didn’t like Ben’s advice.

But that didn’t stop Derek from listening to Ben’s suggestion about support. After all, he found himself buying two tickets for Top The Cops at Sonoma.

Stiles (luckily?) works an all-nighter on Wednesday. Esther agreed to watch Archer and Scarlett without much of a problem. They would be back by eight at the latest, after all.

So Derek drags Rory out, popping a NASCAR cap on her head. She pulls it off, confused before gasping, one hand reverently stroking the NASCAR logo.

“Ready to see some racing, punkin?”

She’d been so damn happy, her eyes wide with wonder as they lost themselves in the roar of different car engines, the whoops of joy from teenagers and other adults in the crowd and the faint smell of beer, funnel cakes and oil. What absolutely broke him more than anything else however, was that small face taking in every sleek car and cocky driver with avid concentration.

“You could be a driver someday, sweetheart.” Derek tells her softly, wondering if that’s what Rory’s latest dream is.

Rory looks up at him, her brown eyes so bright with obvious love for him as she leans over to give him a sideways hug, her attention primarily on the track.

They made it home after sundown. Derek is relieved that Stiles doesn’t have the werewolf nose to figure out that Rory spent the evening cheering on old cop buddies trying to beat teenagers at drag racing.

No, Stiles came in around 1 AM and just flopped straight to bed with a soft moan that nearly kills Derek for other reasons.

Rory hasn’t said anything. Derek thought- _hoped_ she might, but her silence continues as life moves on, specifically in the direction of Archer McCall’s drama. Derek knew he had asked Esther to the Spring Fling and she turned him down, but Archer hadn’t approached them directly about the issue so they agreed to respect his space unless he opened up.

 

Derek is flopped out on the couch, his bare feet nearly touching Stiles thigh as the young doctor scans the newspaper. Scarlett is already in bed while Rory’s well on her way. Derek has no idea how Stiles has the energy to read when Derek’s already halfway asleep, wrapping himself in the comforting sweet-scent of Stiles. 

“Guys?” Archer comes down, wearing a wifebeater that only highlights how scrawny he is, along with some basketball shorts. He looks half despondent, but that’s nothing new since he’s been moping for a few days.

“Hey man.” Stiles pushes Derek’s feet off the couch, reddening a bit and Derek wonders why, “What’s up?”

Archer sighs, a dramatic one to be sure, and comes to stand between them, his eyes square on Derek's, “I want the werewolf bite.”

Stiles turns to Derek, eyes wide, “Derek?” His voice wobbles a bit.

Derek nods, looking at Archer evenly, “Scott was a good man, Archer, but he never wanted the bite. He wouldn't want it for you either.”

Stiles looks relieved that they’re on the same page.

Archer sighs, “I get that, and that’s cool. But I want it.”

“Why?”

“I’m in _love_.” Archer announces significantly, as if this is going to suddenly change the opinion of his guardians. He flops down, sighing, “And she doesn’t love me because I’m not a werewolf.”

“Esther?” Stiles asks for clarification, even though it’s ridiculously not needed.

“She doesn’t love you because you’re fourteen years old.” Derek informs Archer, exasperated, “No one loves teenagers.”

“Dad and Mom did.” Archer shot back

“They were both teenagers. Esther is a twenty-four year old woman.” Derek rubs a hand wearily over his stubble, “And werewolves can love humans just as much as they can love another werewolf. Your dad and mom are proof of _that_.”

Archer sighs, “But Coach Jackson is married to a werewolf. He said you gave her the bite after they married.”

“They both consented after three years in a committed relationship.” Derek shakes his head, “Archer, you have the right to ask for the bite…but not for the wrong reasons.”

“And a lot can go wrong.” Stiles added quickly. Derek can tell how nervous he is just from his tone of voice: “Jackson-well, he wasn’t always a werewolf buddy. He started off as a crazy lizard dude. And sometimes, the bite can kill humans.” Stiles sighs, shaking his head, “Archer, it’s crazy dangerous.”

Archer groaned, flopping down on the chair, “But I’m in love with her!”

“You’ll move on.” Stiles said simply, “Love hurts but it’s part of life. Right Der?”

“Yeah.” Derek says roughly, rubbing his hands together idly as he glances at Stiles before nodding his confirmation, “Love hurts.”

“All my friends have dates.” Archer stands up, “Doesn’t that mean anything to you!? I’m going to be a total third wheel.”

“Actually, one of the nurses told me that her daughter doesn’t have a date.” Stiles suggests thoughtfully, “I’m sure she would be happy to go with a date.”

“Who is she?” Derek asks as Archer just groans again (probably at the horror of being set up).

“Jo Clark’s daughter. Her family moved a few months ago so we bond over being the newbies.”

Derek’s eyes brighten as he thinks of a cluttered desk with a six-person family smiling from some beach, “David Clark is one of my deputies. They have four kids. Good man.”

“Alright.” Stiles looks over at Archer, “There you go, ask the Clark girl.”

Archer frowns, looking at both of them before letting out yet another sigh, “I’ll think about it.” He stalks off and Stiles shrugs, glancing at Derek who is rolling his eyes at Archer’s dramatics.

“That could’ve gone worse?”

Derek shrugs, fiddling with his hands again, “I don’t…I can’t give it to him.”

Stiles leans over, squeezing him on the shoulder, “I wouldn’t let you. Scott wouldn’t-”

“No he wouldn’t.” Derek's face meets Stiles in that tense, emotional moment.

Stiles breaks it, turning back to his newspaper. Derek sighs and stands up, muttering something about exhaustion as he trudges upstairs. Archer is blaring heartbroken country songs and Derek sort of understands that mentality, even if he doesn't want to understand.

But he hates country in general and doesn't feel any regret for yelling at Archer to put headphones on. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me. Sorry it's a day late. I posted Driving Mr. Derek this week and the editing ate up a lot of my free-writing time. 
> 
> Horribly unedited this week so if you remember a grievous error, let me know.
> 
> I'm so excited about Part II so far! Especially since it's going to go faster than Part I in terms of length of time passed. This entire fic is just my personal experiment with time manipulation really. 
> 
> Also, mild warning for the next chapter--May includes the Hallmark holiday of Mother's day.


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